Sweetest scent
Evoked from most
Pungent stench
Of the earth
Take note
Scent
Reply
Ask me again
Won't you?
Life no longer
Violet crumble
In my hands
If only
Sweet honeycomb
Chocolate mess
Ask me over
After work
Take the ticket
To the show
Now state walls
Not a giant mask
Anymore
Storm blows over
World conjures another
Ask me again
For someone to hold
Fake tears fall
From tiny bottle
Until real ones come
Tell the bees
May the goodwoman
Blaze the trail
To the honey box
Knock gently twice
Tell the bees
The whisperer is gone
May they carry on
Sound the gong
Plausible
Plot twists down slinky pole
Like ivy gone wild
Parched dry stone wall
Tips stretch limbs
A divining stick
Precious lick of droplet
Curtain falls
Cool shower soothes
Sting of unseasonal
Summer burst
How to say, thirsty, is all
Ivy, though clinging, choking kind
Something renaissance about it
Ivy league, why?
Look down from chest to feet
All that hides between
Not so incongruous are we?
Tower bell strikes harmoniously
Synonym of ceremony
Meringue gown falls
Layers of royal icing kind
Not my style anymore
Since dawn erupted
Relentlessly upon eyelids
Call to arms silenced
Love does a number on us all
Down to only one
Sound the gong
Midden mortar
Two seeds
Which one to water
Who could know
What it will be
So tiny, two leaves
Open the flower
Scent on the breeze
Wait and see
Which one are we?
In the end
We all become stories
~ Margaret Attwood
My secret garden
Urgently wish
To kiss you
Instead, waited years
Climbed high mountains
To coincide with
Long-held promise
Of blooming again
Tell tales
Tell tales of far off lands
Highest heights
Ravenous lowlands
Vying for a taste of skin
Flying, gliding, whip of wind
Nestled in the cove of calm
Gentle word to do no harm
Count the stars of heaven 