En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Common Scents!

When I was young, my garden grew
Its rambling roses there,
Thank God, because the whole year through
Sweet perfume I could share...
From dainty petals stored in jars
Came my first fragrant friends,
Still cherished like they're superstars,
In mixtures and in blends...

In time, I learnt of other plants,
Aromas all their own,
Like precious gifts meant to enhance,
Once every secret's known...
From Nature's wondrous treasure chest,
Comes perfumes young and old,
Such that we've only to invest
Our time to find pure gold!

That's why designers roam the Earth,
Researching as they go,
To learn which plants they find have worth
Of all that Man can grow...
Experiments then pave the way
So progress is assured,
For from each scent a single spray
Can bring its own reward...

For while its presence still exists,
Consider what it does,
As buyers spray a tiny spritz
And then proceed to fuss...
With oohs and ahs and sudden smiles
And spritz, spritz, spritz again,
Each perfume goes through many trials,
For women and for men...

Is this new fragrance sweet or what,
Too spicy, or just right
And is it cool, or is it hot,
For daytime, or for night?
As cheap as chips, or way too much,
Or somewhere inbetween?
Perhaps it's truly hard to judge,
Without appearing mean!

I'm testing perfumes now and then
And savouring each one,
Technology's beyond my ken,
But I'm just having fun...
I'll spritz, spritz, spritz at breakfast time
And hold my head up high!
Then recommend what smells sublime!
Just buy! Just buy! Just buy!

poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All The Fish In The Sea

I've never liked my-
arctic sleeping partner
Just one ambien,
an a spritz of lavender-
take me out of reality hell
Lead me to sanity dreams and
freedoms calls
Finally millions of light years away-
we are bed partners.

If I die young
from terminal loneliness
or hypothermia-
remember a sun burned girl
with crooked teeth
family vacations at the shore
sinking in burning sand
with our baked bodies
Water so clear
I could see-
the words to my novel
underwater

Most of the time
he is a cold deadly fish-
Circling around, part of
a slimy school of one
eyed evil underwater
predators-
I used to be the
little girl that took
each breaking wave in
stride and was awed
by the fury of the sea

Now I am grown
and I hate fish
I'd rather have my
Maine lobster and leaving fish duties
to the Gorton's fisherman
or Long John Silver.
They are more into
taking leftovers and pressing
them together and
frying them all common and cheap.
You never are sure
what you get
Easy to see why I never fish.

I've never liked my-
arctic sleeping partner
Just one ambien,
an a spritz of lavender-
take me out of reality hell
Lead me to sanity dreams and
freedoms calls
Finally millions of light years away-
we are bed partners.

If I die young
from terminal loneliness
or hypothermia-
remember a sun burned girl
with crooked teeth
family vacations at the shore
sinking in burning sand
with our baked bodies
Water so clear
I could see-
the words to my novel
underwater

Most of the time
he is a cold deadly fish-
Circling around, part of
a slimy school of one
eyed evil underwater
predators-
I used to be the
little girl that took
each breaking wave in
stride and was awed
by the fury of the sea

Now I am grown
and I hate fish
I'd rather have my
Maine lobster and leaving fish duties
to the Gorton's fisherman
or Long John Silver.
They are more into
taking leftovers and pressing
them together and
frying them all common and cheap.
You never are sure
what you get
Easy to see why I never fish.

poem by Robin Bennett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Framed

The lots are a collusion of lawn tools
Rakes bark at sidewalks
Mowers ruminate, roaring in fescue
Pink flamingo statuary and black jockeys
Vie for spritz from rain birds
The straw hat ladies sit on wicker benches
In a garden of sculpted shrubbery
They sip tea from painted dragon china cups
glinting in the summer morning sun
Moving in arcs from laced limbs
The gentry and their servants
The fingers and the cup
Possessing themselves for eternity
“I’m thinking of a tuck”
“ I don’t think a tuck will do you”
“ My God your catty”
laughter erupts from calamity
from an assembly of uncommon alliance
“ I think body replacement would be more like it”
silence warps from light hearted bantering
the pulsing jets of rainbirds
the tinkling of spoons and saucers
“ Your roses are beautiful, just dreamy”
“ I could sit here forever “

poem by George Murdock
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Museum Of The City Of...III

What were they looking for, there,
so long ago?
a diplomat's corpse, bound, gagged and fish-mauled?
(for whatever it's current deficits, this city once had Edge,
and blossomed in the Deuteronium spritz of the Cold War,
til things...rent, got so expensive-Why?)
The soon-to-be end of a quest
cracked by a 'facilitated' confession in some precinct back room
under the kliegs,
by such means as would make New York Law And Order's look tame
and low-tech as a wrist watch,
from some Bond-type con with good legs,
sitting hands shackled behind him, erect in a swivel chair?
A chest of plutonium, lead-lined, of course?
A water-proof safe filled with numbered, stolen bills?
The crown jewels? And if so, who's?
Letters of transit issued to some Soviet spy?
dating from a time when America unabashedly bossed the U.N.,
as it should, no? ,
and people could travel with pride and impunity,
and gas cost 79 cents a gallon?

I doubt it...

poem by Morgan Michaels
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The Cupboard Of Loveliness

The fragrances of yesteryear
So fascinated me
That everything was crystal clear,
As if my destiny!
Collecting perfumes one-by-one,
Became my great desire,
My joie de vivre, my scents of fun,
As seller and as buyer...

Exquisite and ecstatic friends,
As if my second skins.
Companionship that never ends -
They cause my constant grins...
They magnify, they edify,
They sanctify my soul,
They rectify, electrify,
They somehow make me whole...

No wonder, then, I must enthuse,
Promoting such perfumes,
Such that I help my friends to choose
The blessed and best of blooms.
Designer perfumes blow my mind!
Pure bliss and happiness!
They're Heaven-scent and so refined,
God-given loveliness!

Denis Martindale, copyright February 2011.

Peter Sherlock, UK Shopping tv pre-scent-er

Dedicated to Peter Sherlock's ever-so-famous
'The Cupboard of Loveliness' which could just as
easily be called 'The Cupboard of Love Finesse'.

Fragrances stimulate, envigorate and celebrate
all that we sense as being beautiful and sensual.

Our transformation can be such a revelation that
others will want to share. Maybe there should be
a perfume called, ' What's That? ' because that's
what people ask us when they want what we've got!

How many buyers say they're buying perfume for
somebody else, only to sample the perfume and must
keep it all to themselves? Millions, that's how many!

poem by Denis Martindale
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The Mower Against Gardens

Luxurious Man, to bring his Vice in use,
Did after him the World seduce:
And from the Fields the Flow'rs and Plants allure,
Where Nature was most plain and pure.
He first enclos'd within the Gardens square
A dead and standing pool of Air:
And a more luscious Earth for them did knead,
Which stupifi'd them while it fed.
The Pink grew then as double as his Mind;
The nutriment did change the kind.
With strange perfumes he did the Roses taint.
And Flow'rs themselves were taught to paint.
The Tulip, white, did for complexion seek;
And learn'd to interline its cheek:
Its Onion root they then so high did hold,
That one was for a Meadow sold.
Another World was search'd, through Oceans new,
To find the Marvel Of Peru.
And yet these Rarities might be allow'd,
To Man, that Sov'raign thing and proud;
Had he not dealt between the Bark and Tree,
Forbidden mixtures there to see.
No Plant now knew the Stock from which it came;
He grafts upon the Wild the Tame:
That the uncertain and adult'rate fruit
Might put the Palate in dispute.
His green Seraglio has its Eunuchs too;
Lest any Tyrant him out-doe.
And in the Cherry he does Nature vex,
To procreate without a Sex.
'Tis all enforc'd; the Fountain and the Grot;
While the sweet Fields do lye forgot:
Where willing Nature does to all dispence
A wild and fragrant Innocence:
And Fauns and Faryes do the Meadows till,
More by their presence then their skill.
Their Statues polish'd by some ancient hand,
May to adorn the Gardens stand:
But howso'ere the Figures do excel,
The Gods themselves with us do dwell.

poem by Andrew Marvell
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Last Night I Dreamt Your Perfume

Last night I dreamt your perfume
While I held you in my hand
Last night I dreamt your perfume
You will never understand
The way you make me feel
The promise that you give
Last night I dreamt your perfume
Lost in those dreams I live

Last night I dreamt your perfume
Arched fingers cupped your breast
Last night I dreamt your perfume
Felt your warm breath brush my chest
With gel coat slide I gripped you
Sensation through my veins
Last night I dreamt your perfume
She who bears no name

Last night I dreamt your perfume
Your body meshed with mine
Last night I dreamt your perfume
A guilty pleasure, sweet, sublime
Quiet by my pillow
Your touch I never feel
Last night I dreamt your perfume
This morning, wished you real

poem by Bill Smith
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April

April, pride of woodland ways,
Of glad days,
April, bringing hope of prime,
To the young flowers that beneath
Their bud sheath
Are guarded in their tender time;

April, pride of fields that be
Green and free,
That in fashion glad and gay,
Stud with flowers red and blue,
Every hue,
Their jewelled spring array;

April, pride of murmuring
Winds of spring,
That beneath the winnowed air,
Trap with subtle nets and sweet
Flora’s feet,
Flora’s feet, the fleet and fair;

April, by thy hand caressed,
From her breast
Nature scatters everywhere
Handfuls of all sweet perfumes,
Buds and blooms,
Making faint the earth and air.

April, joy of the green hours,
Clothes with flowers
Over all her locks of gold
My sweet Lady; and her breast
With the blest
Birds of summer manifold.

April, with thy gracious wiles,
Like the smiles,
Smiles of Venus; and thy breath
Like her breath, the Gods’ delight,
(From their height
They take the happy air beneath)

It is thou that, of thy grace,
From their place
In the far-oft isles dost bring
Swallows over earth and sea,
Glad to be
Messengers of thee, and Spring.

Daffodil and eglantine,
And woodbine,
Lily, violet, and rose
Plentiful in April fair,
To the air,
Their pretty petals do unclose.

Nightingales ye now may hear,
Piercing clear,
Singing in the deepest shade;
Many and many a babbled note
Chime and float,
Woodland music through the glade.

April, all to welcome thee,
Spring sets free
Ancient flames, and with low breath
Wakes the ashes grey and old
That the cold
Chilled within our hearts to death.

Thou beholdest in the warm
Hours, the swarm
Of the thievish bees, that flies
Evermore from bloom to bloom
For perfume,
Hid away in tiny thighs.

Her cool shadows May can boast,
Fruits almost
Ripe, and gifts of fertile dew,
Manna-sweet and honey-sweet,
That complete
Her flower garland fresh and new.

Nay, but I will give my praise,
To these days,
Named with the glad name of Her
That from out the foam o’ the sea
Came to be
Sudden light on earth and air.

poem by Remy Belleau
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New Year

WHITE year, white year,
Muffled soft in snow,
A diamond spray whose gems are gone
Before their grace we know,
A crystal-coated spray whose hours
Melt when looked upon,
Hoarfrost stars and hoarfrost flowers,
White year!
Green year, green year,
Sweet with sun and showers,
A windblown spray whose blossoms bright
Are the seven-colored hours,
A dancing spray whose leaves are days,
A spray whose leaves delight
In azure gleam and silver haze,
Green year!
New Year, new year
From rosy leaf to gold,
A shining spray on the Tree of Time
Where myriad sprays unfold,
A spray so fair that God may see
And gather it, bloom and rime,
To deck the doors of Eternity,
New Year!

poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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The Rose

There was a Rose so warm and bright.
And from it smiles would grow.
It stood out from the other Plants.
It; s beauty was on show.
A Flower with such presence,
That all that came to see.
A Rose within a garden
Blooming happily.

Then one day it's leavs grew weak.
And the brightness seemed to fade.
How could a bud of beuaty,
Grow dull from day to day?
And suddenly the smiles grew weak.
No more stunning petals
No more standing tall.

Then one day the rose grew weak.
And to the ground it fell.
Such a loss to all around
Enchanted by it's spell.
And so a space in the garden
Where once beaty grew.
A space that could never be filled.
By a presence so strong and true

( not written by me but i liked the poem so much it makes me think of my dad)

poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Rhapsody In Blue (Rose: Frantasia)

Although named Rhapsody in Blue, it's commonly agreed,
It's iridescent purple hue... Rose of the Year, indeed!
It's got a fragrance that enchants the disenchanted soul
And so we ask, let it enhance, for beauty is its goal!
Of all the flowers gardens share, this rose deserves its place.
It radiates both style and flair, puts smiles on every face...
The Main Road that we daily walk involves us to the hilt.
When we're at home, we sit and talk, so tired that we wilt...
Perhaps it's then that we look out to see this rose in bloom...
Remembering, without a doubt, its God-blessed sweet perfume!
Buy other coloured roses, too, for rainbows here on Earth!
Yes, credit where credit is due... for every rose has worth!

poem by Denis Martindale
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Le Jardin De La Joie (The Garden Of Joy)

Before you came into my life my garden knew no love!
Until you came to be my wife and we walked hand-in-glove...
For when we came to live as one, our children joined us, too!
Together, we, have shared such fun! It seemed the garden knew!
Now every year the roses bloom and fragrance fills the flowers!
Aromas roam with such perfume there are no lonely hours!
Each bumble bee comes like a friend to visit and to feed...
Thus baby bees on us depend to make their honey mead...
Fine-feathered friends enjoy their stay and flock back now and then!
They know we won't turn them away... they pick their moments when...
Thus laughter fills each sweet repose! Our pear tree does us proud!
And as the day comes to a close, we thank the Lord, heads bowed...
Without Christ's love our joy would fade like twilight, slow and coy!
And yet God's love each day's displayed in our garden of joy!

poem by Denis Martindale
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She Is In Love

she is in love, how can i not notice it?
she wakes up early, goes into her garden
and sings a beautiful song, very early this morning.
she waters her roses, and feeds the chickens.
she cooks breakfast. The eggs are fresh.
The meat well cooked and so tasty.
The coffee smells the aroma of coffee.
What else?
The room is clean, the kitchen so well kept.
My polo shirt is ready, my socks, handkerchief,
my underwear, my shoes, my tie, they're all
placed on bed for me to wear today.
The room smells with perfume
Her favorite, Victoria's secret.
She kisses me twice now, and another one
before i leave.
Life is beautiful, she repeats it again and again.
She stays in the house now. No travels this time.
No loafing with friends.

Tell me that i am conceited.
She is still in love with me. Now on our 12th year of marriage.
I look again at our wedding ring. The tiny diamond there still glitters.
Against the sunlight. Against all the odds.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sunshine Hue

Sunshine hue, sunshine grew
Shines its rays on me and you
Sunshine light sunshine bright
Not a dark cloud close in sight

Sunshine thrive sunshine grow
Sweet healing rays on all your tribe
Sunshine healing, sunshine show
The pure essence of our being

Sunshine parade, sunshine displayed
In its fractionised barricade
Sunshine tranced, sunshine danced
Gave our souls such sweet romance

Sunshine dove, sunshine above
Thanks for your sweet rays of love
So sun kissed and pure sun bliss
Sunshine blocks out all the mist

So sunshine mellow sunshine yellow
You’ve made me a lucky fellow

There is a garden where very few

can roam, not very far from home
Come closer, I am alone, just now
Go past cobwebs glistening like silver
Come closer, you're the rose

I want the most to go through

My garden of ice and snow
Blooming with rich fragrant roses

Velvety black, blue and red
Each with perfume of love
As I sleep below the roses
Loneliness has reached my skin

I need the love that ebbs and flows
Just a sip from your succulent nectar
Shall free me from this small pain
Dig deep beneath the thorny layers

And free me from your heart
That we can share the midnight hours
and know how I hunger and thirst

Just a shield me, protect me

And this shall will give me power
To become a loved once again
Without it I will fade away

I'd rather have roses on my table

Than diamonds on my neck

Where flowers bloom so does hope

Each flower is a soul opening out to nature

Perfumes are the feelings of flowers
The world is one giant rose

Smell it and pass it onto your friends

When bright flowers bloom
Parchment crumbles, my words fade
The pen has dropped...

Flowers are love's truest language

I will touch a hundred flowers
And never pick one, none

They are not long, the days of wine and roses
Out of a misty dream our path emerges

For a while, then closes within a dream

There came a time when the risk

To remain tight in the bud
Was more painful than the risk it took

Blossoming flowers are the sweetest things
Ever made and forgot to put a soul into

It is at the edge of a petal that love waits

Pure as any one of you

Who can estimate the elevating and refining

Influences and moral value of flowers

With all their graceful forms

Bewitching shades and combinations
Colours and exquisitely varied perfumes

These silent influences are unconsciously felt

Even by those who do not appreciate them
And thus with better and still better flowers

Will the earth be transformed, man's thought

Refined, and turned from the base destructive

Forces into nobler, more simpler production

One which will lift us to high planes of action

Toward the happy day when the angels
Of all this beautiful work is more acknowledged

Loved with many richer grains
Better fruit and fairer flowers from this earth

For myself I hold no preferences among flowers
So long as they are wild, free, spontaneous.
Observe this dew drenched rose garden
A rose today, tomorrow and yesterday
It was the dust, the sunshine, and the rains

Which I first saw, or desired to see, the flower

In the cherry blossom's shade
There's no such thing as a stranger

The thoughts grow as freely as the flowers

The dreams are as beautiful in friendship

Fragrant garden, there are flowers of every hue
Each with its own fair beauty and its gift of joy

None can have a healthy love for flowers
Unless he loves the wild ones freely

White blossoms slowly float down
Dancers in the wind as everything has been

But the spring breeze

A flowerless room is a soulless room

To my way of thinking
But even on solitary little vase

Home of a living flower may redeem it

Thought of before, in the hope

Reaching the moon, men fail to see

The flowers that blossom at their feet

Who would have thought it possible

That a tiny little flower could preoccupy

A persons mind completely

There simply wasn't room for any other thought

Let me show you the sweet smell

A delicate whisper behind the vision

Gardens are drunk from roses
And it is my faith, that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes

Flowers leave their fragrance

In the hand that bestows them

We gathered the wild flowers
There seemed one pure delight
Through the field we roamed
There seemed one pure delight

Silently a flower blooms
In silence it falls away
Yet here now, at this moment, at this place
The world of the flower

The whole of you is blooming
This is the talk of the flower

The truth of the blossom
The glory of eternal life

Is fully shining here

But the spring breeze

A flowerless room is a soulless room, to my way of thinking;
but even on solitary little vase of a living flower may redeem it.

There grows the flower of Peace
The Rose that cannot wither

Do not the petals flutter down
Just like this?

Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take, towards the door we never opened and into the rose garden with all the flowers of all the tomorrows are in the seeds of today, every flower about a house certifies to the refinement of somebody, every vine climbing and blossoming tells of love and joy and stories yet to come…

poem by Char Pattrick
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In The Company Of Women

Glass in hand she shouts
Ladies night out tonight!
Here's where the fun begins
Not a single man in sight
Drinks are all on me she smiles
Enough of all the doom and gloom!
Drunken smirks with sleepy eyes
Not a single male in the room
In The Company Of Women
As the music plays loud in my ears
I see a two women share a long kiss
The night is young and full of life
So glad to have been a part of this
Asked to dance I can't resist so
The smell of perfume in the air
Surely the time is running away now
But nobody seems to even care
In The Company Of Women

poem by Suelynn Walters
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The Divine Secret

The divine secret we all should know,
The seeds we sow that certainly grow;
When the rain falls and the sun shines,
And soothing congenial winds do blow.
Acacian pills bear no sweet mangoes,
Or fragrant roses that sway and glow,
So the deeds issue the plants of results,
Delay not my friend, learn to timely plow,
And scatter the seeds with devoted faith,
He will reward you either soon or slow.
Otherwise blame not the Providence when,
You are haunted by a vulture or a crow.

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Summer Time Blues

Try to add perfumes to your minds to meet me there,
The summer is here and it is with the blues;
You are not alone on this hot summer night.
We havethe natural fragrant to keep us going,
The summer time blues to swing with the muse;
You are not alone without the blues.
Scents for your love,
Mid-Summer-Night blues to your taste;
Enjoy the summer with the safety of numbers.
Summer time blues,
The fragrant of love to keep you going;
Summer, summer, summer time! !
Summer time blues,
The summer of a muse;
Summer time blues,
The summer of a poem;
With relationships that moves you up.
Summer time blues,
With the heat waves to crown the day;
Perfume your body to meet up to the act.

Let us visit Copacabana and Ipanema this summer,
Of the rocky promontory at sight to give you hope;
Like the summer time blues with your lover.
It is summer time,
Visit the beaches to see things for yourselves;
Summer, summer, summer time! !
Meet me there and touch me with your heart.
A summer time love with the blues,
Like the golden grape of my soul;
Summer is the essence of a colourful life.
The sense of reality in times like this,
The heat with love to share with others;
Where the hearts of lovers do meet like,
One's love never touched before.
Summer time blues is all about this muse,
A time of love to share with your lover;
Summer, summer, summer time! !

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Fiel

Her beauty finds array among roses,
Among orchids that often fill the night,
With sweet perfumes, the scent of which crosses,
Paths of wistful dreams, nocturnal in flight;
A sunflower watching the sun till gone,
With upturned heart hitched to the Lord all day,
Come those smiles, showering on everyone,
On all of creation that God did lay;
Many a stranger came but left as friend,
Might be heartless, as such they left behind,
Assured of care, without heartaches to mend,
With love returned, in substance and in kind;
....Her world, a garden in bloom, resplendent,
....As so her heart has been, with love, ardent.

.

poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Setting the scene for M lady Lucianne

Few know where shy white violets grow
but I am one of those who do.
Just take my hand and we will go
together to a place I know.

I am prepared to share with you
But you must swear you will not tell
a single soul for if you do.
Too many folks will go there to

grub up the plants and take them home
to plant them in their garden plot.
Where other folks are not welcome
I would not mind if they took some.

But know quite well they’ll take them all
and leave not one single plant behind.
Their greed would be the plants downfall.
There would be none for us to find.

When we go walking hand in hand
along this pretty lovers lane.
I know my love you understand.
The violets grow where nature planned.

That white violets are very rare,
they are not meant to be confined.
They do not need a gardeners care
You will see when we get there.

Their beauty in a natural state.
Where they were intended to be,
I know you will appreciate
why I swear you to secrecy.

But I trust you implicitly
I know that you will not betray
the shy white violets or me.
You are the soul of honesty.

That’s why I am in love with you.
Not only are you sweet and kind
but to your word you’re always true.
and do what you say you will do.

When we get there I will propose
and hope that you will answer yes.
I think you have guessed my purpose
and know exactly why I chose.

To show my violets to you
today and now in early spring,
In fact I am convinced you do.
You know me far too well not to.

4-Dec-08

http: // blog.myspace.com/poetic piers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Frosty Scent!

The sweet scent of a Rose
Stays frozen when sprayed with a hose;
Rose-water, Natural Sweet notes of a Rose
Aroma rejuvenates in Beauty's Classic pose;

Perfumes that suit you, are so many
Rose, Orange, Vanilla, Sandalwood and Honey;
Scents that soothe, please, enhance, refresh, cheer
All depends on the taste and mood, what you wear;

Smell that makes one happy and attractive
Personality, Taste and Mood is indicative;
Frost covers the flower but enhances it's fragrance
Sweet Odour hides the essence of your presence.

poem by Manjeshwari P MYSORE
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The Secret Life Of Plants

I cant conceive the nucleus of all
Begins inside a tiny seed
And what we think as insignificant
Provides the purest air we breathe
But who am I to doubt or question the inevitable being
For these are but a few discoveries
We find inside the secret life of plants
A species smaller than the eye can see
Or larger than most living things
And yet we take from it without consent
Our shelter, food, habilment
But who am I to doubt or question the inevitable being
For these are but a few discoveries
Wwe find inside the secret life of plants
But far too many give them in return
A stomp, cut, drown, or burn
As is theyre nothing
But if you ask yourself where would you be
Without them you will find you would not
And some believe antennas are their leaves
That spans beyond our galaxy
Theyve been, they are and probably will be
Who are the mediocrity
But who am I to doubt or question the inevitable being
For these are but a few discoveries
We find inside the secret life of plants
For these are but a few discoveries
We find inside the secret life of plants

song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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