Thursday, November 11, 2021

The Smell of the Morning.

Have you ever thought of the smell of the morning? Or about the smell of the rising sun. Wait a minute; the sun doesn't have a smell, does it? Well, scientifically, no. But, in poetry, a comet can have a smell if you just imagine. This is my interpretation of the smell of the morning:                                 

                                    The Smell of the Morning


The smell of the morning, 

The dew on the grass, 

It smells of the rains that silently passed, 


The smell of the sun, 

Of resting bread dough, 

The heart of a flame, 

From where a fire grows


The smell of fresh color, 

On the newly-painted home, 

The metallicity of the smell stands out,

Like a lone garden gnome, 

In a pitiful fairy garden, 


The smell of breakfast, 

Wafting through the breeze, 

Of pancakes and bacon, 

Just out of reach


The light of the morning,

The moon’s last beam, 

It allows the sun to wake you up from this dream


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Prism

Prism My mind is a prism. That reflects my stormy soul, Everyone sees a different side of the hurricane in my head.