My Senses, My Memories
Rose Kelland
Close your eyes, what do you see?
Do you see honeycombs?
The fire dancer’s golden rings?
Splashes of red on a sea of calm water?
A clove?
Black edges of the spider’s travel lines?
Blue suns radiating shimmering tinsel?
Lime green triangles – three brush strokes on canvas?
Close your eyes, what do you hear?
The rippling of wind on water?
The morning chatter over feathered teas?
The splash of mallards on the farmer’s lake?
The deep gruff gaggle of turkeys in fields?
The seagulls raucous demands and giggles?
Close your eyes, what do you feel?
The soft wisp of breath from nose to lip?
The hug of wind?
The friendship of chatter?
The warm inner glow of excitement and peace?
Close your eyes, what do you smell?
Burnt toast from lazy breakfast’s plate?
Coffee brewing, bubbling hot?
New mown grass and rain on the air?
Sweet pungent odours of farm manure
Wafting on the summer breeze?
Earthy clods all newly turned
And wet by nighttime’s watering maid?
Close your eyes, what do you taste?
The cleansing bubbles of brush and paste?
The melting moment of yesterday’s treat?
The salty drops of joyful tears
On upturned tongue over dry cracked lips?
A moment in time
A picture forever
Is captured in senses
Too magical to measure
The past comes to visit
With smiles and passion
My senses the vehicle
For memories forgotten.