The smell of fresh baked bread,
The scent of a baby's bald head.
The incense of vanilla candles,
The sharp stale rust on iron handles.
The fresh new smell of the pages of a book,
The fabric that makes me look
Like the girl I am, I guess.
The unmistakable smell of milk
The wooly smell of a freshly sown quilt.
The musty aftersmell of grass that was mown,
The feel of the yarn of the first crosstitch I sewed.
The smell of the pen scribbling on a judge's criteria,
These smells make up my Amortentia.
Combined make the ultimate love potion, no more, no less.
(Not edited)
YOU ARE READING
Poetry by and for the Common Man (or Woman)
PoetryJust your typical everyday poetry, with a little kick.
