The Sweet Smell Of...
The oilman smells of oil.
Do I smell of words?
Idle notions, vague ideas occur
to mingle with events.
Plots of stories hammer down my fence
at night, to scatter
at the light of day.
All that lingers, my heroine's sweet scent.
paragraphs unfurl their pungent plumes.
A touch of sandalwood and spearmint.
Practicality flees the room,
the stench too powerful.
A fantasy bouquet,
Essence of Over-Active Imagination
Then, when all good people lie abed,
content to seek their rest,
I'm besotted by my pen's perfume,
"Eau de Chapters". A strong incense
intoxicates my mind
as my hero's masculine scent assails me,
and I breathe my stories
into life.[ end ]