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I wanted to walk in the forest with you
I took your hand
We stepped to the edge where vines grew thick
and flowers smelled sweet and dangerous
like the perfume we purloined
from your mother's dresser
As our lips touched
I swear I heard the dryads sing
and I ached to follow but
you turned away
laughing
How many times
have I returned to that day?
How many times
have I tried to find that mossy forest entrance?
But the path is closed
In its place, a tangle of dried brambles
and withered blooms
scentless
like a dusty bottle of evaporated perfume.
17 comments:
really nice close on the dusty bottle of perfume...the desicated woods at the end play as well off the death of this dream...magical bit here...i like...
This is really beautiful and sensuous. I like the perfume throughout.
I enjoyed this a lot! Sometimes one cannot repeat a journey one has taken even if one travels the same route! We just have to remember the first time, savor memories, and choose another path.
Nice capture of that mossy forest day ~ I think we all have that yearning to revisit those places ~
Sensuous and steamy...
With a great ending!
A beautiful poem! Love the metaphor of love and memories evaporating away like perfume. Wonderfully done!
how many times have i wanted to return to a moment and cannot. {smile}
i love how you wove the scents into your poem.
♥
Nice. Wistful.
The path not taken is lost.
**sigh** I have looked for a few of those myself and couldn't find them again.
Oh nice...love the closing lines, so evocative of memories that cannot be lived again.
This was beautiful in most unexpected ways. I'm left with a lingering sense of perfume.
Memory, tangles, moss. Beautiful images. We all have places like this stored within us...
imagery is strong, and the bringing in of olfactory memory.. who hasn't been taken mental prisoner by an unexpected scent.
This begins and ends with perfume, the scent of it from the bottle opened like a Pandora's box, and finally its disappearance. The wistfulness is apparent throughout the poem, like the vapors of that open bottle.
Nice job moving from one mood and meaning to another without wasted words and images.
http://www.kimnelsonwrites.com/2012/05/21/take-action/
Sad poem to me about missed opportunity. Richly painted. I had to look up dryad (always like to learn a new word!) . Quite a lovely write!
unrequited love is a strong perfume, I myself also heard the music in this, nice one
Nostalgia rules supreme...
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