
Flowers
Fragrance
Fragrance of the special creature
Created only for my enjoyment
Bringing with it no special feature
No caress for eyes; resplendant
Holding my cheeks red color
With only the faintest whim
That there is no other
That matches me within
You know not beauty
Not what I have beheld
Not that which I have thrown away
In favor of this one for whom I fell
Not even the aspirations of a god
Could create a more splendid being
Than the one with whom I understand
With whom I have a reason
Return to Poetry Index
Return to Home