It's Poetic Tuesday at dVerse and we're
asked to write a poem about a smell
that takes us to a place of comfort and
safety. There are too many to choose!
Here's a reprise of my Six Scents Worth.
Submitted to dVerse
October 2, 2018
********************
In the attic of my mind, memories
are like dust motes riding sunbeams,
set in motion by scents linked to
sometimes seemingly insignificant
moments in life’s journey.
The subtle scent of lilac takes
me back to the yard gate of my
childhood home, where the
lilac bloomed profusely every
Spring, its sweet fragrance a witness
to my learning to roller skate, and
later to my first kiss.
The delicate scent of new-mown hay,
its sweet smell released by the kiss
of prairie sun, conjures memories
of pedaling down country roads
where pheasants nested in the fencerows
and red-winged blackbirds perched on
fence posts singing their joy to the world.
The pungent scent of coffee brewing
is reminiscent of the battered burbling
percolator on my grandmother’s big cook stove
that sent a wake-up call to all and sundry to
gather at the big round table for country ham,
biscuits and gravy, and a huge platter of
sunny side-up eggs glistening with ham drippings.
The glorious smell of a coming rain
kissing the air with its fragrance before
it makes its way across fields of grain
takes me to mother’s garden, where first drops raise
puffs of dust before they soak into the rich
black soil. nurturing the fruits of mother’s
labor that sustain us through the winter.
The smell of sunshine and sweat is linked
to memories of my father returning from
work in the field, responding to my cry of
“Lift me, Daddy”, swinging me high in
his strong arms, instilling in me a sense of
being loved and special, the greatest gift of all.
The smell of wood burning carries
me to a cozy room with fireplace in the great
Smoky Mountains, where I hear again
the voices and laughter of dear friends now
gone and awaiting me in the great what
comes after.
Scents are the gossamer golden strands
of our lives that enfold moments
and people we hold dear, so that we
might savor them time and time again.
This is like a concerto of scents, each carrying that special not of the past... yes they are strands of all that has left.
ReplyDeleteOh Bev, this is wonderful. For me it is one of your best. It comes out pitch-perfect, with every stanza a stand alone poem, yet weaved together masterfully!
ReplyDeleteI love the journey of scents, from childhood blooms to the parents smell of food, sunshine and sweat. Thank you for sharing this beloved album of scents Bev!
ReplyDeleteThis is so good, Bev! I felt like I was looking through a scrapbook, complete with sniffables.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful write! The last stanza sums it up perfectly! Thank you!
ReplyDeleteWhat wonderful lines to start your poem, Bev:
ReplyDelete'In the attic of my mind, memories
are like dust motes riding sunbeams'.
I love the way you roller-skate the reader past the the lilac-scented yard gate to your first kiss and I took a deep breath of the delicate scent of new-mown hay kissed by prairie sun. and the smell of coming rain - I love that smell! I'm lucky to still enjoy the smell of wood burning - we have two wood burners, one in the kitchen and one in the dining room to keep us cosy throughout winter.
Thank you so much, Kim. Funny how our own scent memories trigger scents for others and vice versa. Your wash day scents brought me back to the small of bleach and bluing (did your mother use bluing for whites?) and carefully feeding the clothes into the wringer, hence into the basket and up the stairs into the back yard to hang them on the clothesline next to the old grape arbor. Oh (sigh), thank you for that memory!
DeleteI love that! "Scents are the gossamer golden strands..."
ReplyDeleteI hope you don't mind but after reading yours, I had to add a line for lilacs in my list poem :) Thanks for stirring memories, Bev!
ReplyDeleteOf course I don't mind. All the wonderful memory scents for this challenge have kick-started memories for me as well!
DeleteNice lines: "and red-winged blackbirds perched on
ReplyDeletefence posts singing their joy to the world." I hadn't thought of those bird sounds as birds singing their joy before, but now it is obvious that is what they are doing.
wonderful poem! love every tiny bit of it. you have precious memories. teandpaper
ReplyDeleteI love that you've included several scents from your youth. Very nice nostalgic feel to it.
ReplyDeleteTeresa from Razzamadazzle
I love this -- the way scents evoke the memories that you lovingly sketched. Very lovely
ReplyDeleteMary (CactusHaiku.com -- a bit belatedly catching up on reading the Comfort Smells contributions. Thanks for reading mine so promptly. Lifts a hot chai latte in toast.)