Primas (Navitus) | Fragrance Poetry

Fragrance Poetry Inspired by the Fragrance Primas from Navitus.

fragrance poetry review navitus primus
Photo by Allef Vinicius on Unsplash

Yes, I’m one of those guys that “loved and lost.” Ended up in a bad breakup (on my end). I decided it was time for a new adventure. So I hopped on a flight down to Brazil.

I signed up for a little hiking tour. At first, I was enamored by the intense, spicy scents of the exotic plants and trees. You know me, “The Fragrance Writer:” I loved the smells of the rosewoods and amber-like woods. Until I was caught off guard by a beautiful woman wearing jasmine. I turned and looked – there you were.

You were the interpreter on our tour. Or maybe you were just sent here to help me reinterpret my journey of lost love. Either way, I knew I wasn’t much to look at. I was hoping my favorite vetiver-patchouli cologne would do the trick to win you over as we chatted. Or maybe it was just my humor. . . Definitely not my poetic skills ;-).

But you had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. They were so distinct – green, like a mango. They stole the show. And when I looked into those mango-green eyes. . . I knew. . . I was ready for new love. . .one that proved to be long-lasting.

Click Here to learn more about Primas from Navitus. Read Rehab from Initio. ©, 2020 except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

Rehab (Initio) | Fragrance Poetry

Fragrance Poetry Inspired by Rehab from Initio.

rehab initio fragrance poetry review
Photo by Ryan Spaulding on Unsplash

Can someone take my heart to rehab?
I didn’t know everything was counterfeit these days.
I just want to taste something that’s authentic.
Even if it doesn’t last too long.
Even if the romance isn’t too strong.
Just take my heart to rehab.

If I find true love,
Will I even be able to distinguish it?
Or will it all taste so different?
Because I only know the imitations –
Imitations meant to trick limitations.

But I’ll welcome this right now
On an occasion for peace.
A little white cup of
Pure white cream.
Some little purple flowers.
A little something sparkle-y.
And this little bit of true love
Will lull me to sleep.

So tell me,
What’s your love rehab?

Click Here to learn more about Initio Parfums. Read Amber Tapestry from Aftelier. © 2020, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

The Sunshine Quota | Poetry Collaboration

Jasmine and Ward met when true love budded.
True to her name, Jasmine was a gentle vine;
Her heart reaching out to climb new heights.
His affection watered her delicate smiles to bloom.
But Jasmine flowers don’t last forever . .
Eventually you find them scattered in the wind.
Yearning for their Lover’s call –
Lost in the midst of the coldest nights.

And as the petals of eternal love focused their darkening white gaze on the grave of her befallen- a bundle of decayed fluorescence, an unruly comparison to the young brilliance that she knew of, and adored, but alas, it is what once was-
A lonely petunia bloomed to life-or, more specifically, to death-
But alone no longer! A dozen lilies
And a rather envy-worthy field of Aloe
Sprouted to life
Like the chorus
Of a heart-wrenching melancholic symphony
The Jasmine petals slowly fluttered to the ground-a little bit less than six feet under
And the dark crimson roses cried for the loss of joy and normalcy, of pleasant fragrances of romance
Winter spared nobody, it seemed
A season of wither,
A solace for the broken. . .

Great spores proliferated from Striped-Carnation,
Trampled red poppy, dusted and forgotten,
Weaponry and trajectory scattered the lands of meadow,
A perfected landscape for Erica to bloom,
Now engulfed in flames, sheltered with flakes of snow,
The memories of Asphodel painting lands,
So far and so much it left no beams for Jasmine,
‘our petals of eternal love’,
All left was a dull and numbed land,
As proved, many bright paint can only lead to an ugly and dull colour,

But, a land of war cannot stay a land of the withered for long,
As the remains of Cyclamen succumbs to the cold,
What was once tears, became rain for spring,
A sign of Pine Trees,
A reincarnation for Valerian,
A lock re-opened,
And finally, a dozen of Tulips,
Ready to bloom once again,

And as the land takes a steadying breath,
With each inhalation,
And exhalation,
A heartbeat stutters to life
With sprouting petals, ones of wings, of hope
The Jasmine takes flight
Allowing the sing-song of spring to sooth her agonized soul
And for the tendrils of sunlight
To seep into her
Bringing in acceptance
Of a peaceful lingering farewell
And of a new beginning.

This poem was in collaboration with Nour from Leave Behind a Trace and another friend who will just remain a ghost writer, “Tulip.” We hope you notice each flower mentioned in specific and holds a point of symbolism relevant to each part of the poem. Check out my last collaboration, The Taste of Two Lovers. © Leave Behind a Trace &, 2020, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.