Perfumed Boom

Peacock Poetry

I will never tire of the amazing aromas that transpire after a summer storm has passed. I just love the invasion of floral fragrance and shrub scent and decided to write about this very concept after recent rainfall.


When the mild moistness mingles with pollen and perfume, inhalation

becomes a fragrant affair.

I’m fixated. Following the scented trail of shrub and

fallen petal

as if on some kind of involuntary Spring treasure hunt, spurred onwards

by the potential rewards of rampant raindrop upon

porous pansy.

The growling clouds can pull their sombre faces all they like.

I forgive them their uncongeniality.

If my tears produced such fragrant fodder, I wouldn’t be complaining.

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