Can You Smell Life!?!…..Time to Share more Poetry!

While posting some of my poetry on line I came across this one that I had written awhile back.  And I wondered….do other people smell life like I do?  Or is it just me and my nose running wild?   Anyway,  I love the smells of life!

Fragrance of Life ©

Cool rain drums on blistering
asphalt, the scent streams into
the nostrils–hot, grassy smell of
summer, freshly cut-smoky
cedar lingers on the air

Fresh popcorn drenched in
butter, I sit in the dark, musty
movie house. Childhood
memories of Tom Mix dashing
across the screen

A breath, deep of rain-damp wool,old man
heady peat of whiskey
neat. Old butt-imprinted leather
and the dusty, pulpy smell of a
well thumbed book as the page
is turned

The mule drawn plow turns the
rich, boggy earth beneath an
autumn sky. With luck and some
rain the larder is full at harvest

Wrapped in strong arms, nose
pressed to warm skin smelling of
soap and outdoors. Drinking the
heat in with the smell of the
man, your man

Sweet puppy breath. Pure
doggy conviction that you will
love him as much as he loves

Candles and incense in the
great cathedral… the heart fills
with faith, hope, and expectation

Soft curls, sweet skin, the babe
squirms closer… powdery
newness, innocence, and trustsea

Briny, sharp tang of the northern
sea. Balmy, yielding, essence
under the Southern Cross

Green aftertaste, fishy decay
and salty fresh scent of the
clean-swept beach

Sultry air twines itself through the
Quarter, crushed sugar, wet
pavement, yeasty bouquet of
hot beignet. Warm beer,
praline sweet, heady grape
Old river water slugs along

blood.warStifling, coppery smell of blood
be it the battle field, hospital,
crime scene, butcher shop, or
birthing room…

Cloys In the nostrils sticks in the
back of the throat like old mucus

Icy sweetness of winter air,
frigid sting of snow to come…
sharp pine tantalizes the senses,
as harsh breath smokes the air

Steaming manure in fresh straw,
roasted peanuts, pink spuncircus tent
sugary sweet…
the pungent animals stalk the cage
Sawdust under old
canvas glows like old gold in a
shaft of sun light.

The Big Top!
Childhood rushes back

The smell of her on your
mustache… you don’t want to
wash your face… lose the
heady scent of her love

asphalt.treeNew trees struggle to rise above
a sea of old petroleum
Pine sol lies still on the cold tiles,
stale baloney on old bread
Rancid tired clothes reek of cheap cologne

The truck belches halitosis
Move on down the highway

Sharp fall gusts through the
quaking aspen,
pitchy sap barks in the
crackling fire,loon
snowy air assaults the senses

The loon sings, warming and
plucking at the heart.

A Review:  ‘A fascinating mélange of sensual experiences. Your poem reads like a mosaic — never tiring us by lingering too long on a particular stimulation. Every line is fresh and invigorating. Read carefully, we actually smell the “stale baloney on old bread” or hear the “pitchy sap barking in the crackling fire”.’

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