Power Of Fragrance

The whispering fragrance of honeysuckle
creeping towards my brain,
turns me into a princess clad
in a silk and velvet gown with a train,
a crown of jewels on her head,
serenaded by the sun and rain.

YSL Paris Spring transports me
into a dream place, full of revelry
immerses me into a world of luxury,
makes me dance with a future reality,
keeping me in thrilling company
even only momentarily.

Sprayed all over my newly-washed body,
loudly speaking for every throbbing artery,
some drops reaching some hidden cranny,
I am, at once, a queen -a source of envy
for fragrance that lures spontaneity
of feeling, of ardor, of sensuality.

Bathing in petals of roses and pearls of herbal oils,
I become like Cleopatra, sighing as it boils
the longing in me to forever be
immersed in moments sensory,
only to be reminded suddenly
of its impermanence and its futility
as I get out of the tub of unreality.


(8: 34 A.M. 17 July 2007)

by Joscephine Gomez

Comments (1)

This is a very nice poem, very sensuous. I enjoyed it.