The Perfume

Wisps of winter in the air,

An ever so slight fog hangs here and there.

Orbs of yellow streetlights look so much warmer,

The smell of a burnt off cracker around the corner.

There's the sweet whiff of the Gulachin flowers.

Memories of gift boxes arriving home, shining like stars.

Of holidays when children played around without a care.

Of love that hung gingerly in the seasonal air.

And so like an alluring perfume you could never perfectly define,

Are sweet October memories of mine.

-Dandelion Head

On Conversation

I talked so much,
All that incessant chatter.
But alas nothing would matter
No image to savour in your memory remain.
So much for speaking without refrain.
For in all that noise,
Was forgotten a reflection of my Soul's voice.

Vision

The sun peeped out and blew the cover of zillion smothering dust particles

The Vineyard

Sailing through roads in darkness.

Curiosity straining for light keeps awake.

Catch glimpses of stories, speculate.

Wells of light shining out on the river,

Each view slithers past like a snake.

Awakening time of unearthly beauties,

This night will intoxicate.