Things Long Stored
I remembered the scent
It floated on the air
Following her into the crowd.
It clung to my nose.
And sang in my blood.
Inundated my mind
Washed it with memories
Things long stored;
Of kind warm nights,
Softness of laundered sheets;
Of mother and perfumed hugs.
Those fleeting goodnight kisses
Soft from her fragrant lips.
How the light played on russet hair
And caught the mischief of her smile
As she tripped out the door
In a blaze of rustling silks,
Like Cinderella off to the ball.
Rising from the dusty warehouse of my mind
It all floods back as if yesterday,
And she long gone lives again.
P H Brookes Copyright 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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