ScentA Poem by Siddartha Beth PierceThe power of memory the cum of hay the smell of clay like the mud puddle at the bottom of the hill where we used to play.
Joy, the perfume my mother would wear when there was enough money to spare at Christmastime.
And mine, Byzance for Spring or Summer and Coco Chanel or Fendi in Fall and Winter brings pleasure to those who cross my path.
It is time that we agreed to bring this passion to those that have suffered.
They say, don't look back but plan for the future and live for the moment to enjoy what is happening now.
For you all I would do most anything to show you the truth and love and learning- as well as pleasure forever burning of my greatest need that I hold dear.
A smell can trigger a thought, a care and makes me wish that you were here.
Incense, too, is nice although it often makes me sneeze as does lavendar upon the summer breeze.
With auras, words and purple rain- the guardians of scent look after us without a doubt enjoy loved ones the miracle for you from me of the blessed Aromatherapy.
© 2008 Siddartha Beth PierceReviews
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3 Reviews Added on June 9, 2008 AuthorSiddartha Beth PierceRichmond, VAAboutArtist, Poet, Educator, African and Contemporary Art Historian more..Writing
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