to me, I feel your aroma
lies dormant in winter
Smooth, dreamy blue ice.
I want
I desperately needed
Your rose aroma in your mouth,
Gorgeous flower.
I want to squeeze that essence and drink it in.
I want to lift up those dandelion legs and blow at your head, seeds exposed.
It’s
Dipped
In
Lazy, summertime shame.
Oh, that sort of shame that kills my very organs,
Squeezing them tighter and
Squelching them with grips of the green agony
That wraps around my heart like
Forceps,
Like my Creator, I have shame,
Yes, I feel shame.
I’m a tilted rose bowing before you,
And I want to bend
Bend so far, I break,
I will bottle up that fragrance, that idea of your beautiful canvas, your incense in my heart—-a true heart warming comfort.
The immortal whisper of your fresh heart
Lies within those, dreamy, smoky sunshine drops, golden and yet wintery, I dream of that comfort every time I see that bit of yellow
only to have candle it away
like a blown out promise.
About the Creator
Melissa Ingoldsby
I am a published author on Patheos,
I am Bexley by Resurgence Novels
The Half Paper Moon on Golden Storyline Books for Kindle.
My novella The Job and Atonement will be published this year by JMS Books
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Expert insights and opinions
Arguments were carefully researched and presented
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Masterful proofreading
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Keep reading
More stories from Melissa Ingoldsby and writers in Poets and other communities.
Golinda and Gallopatrot go to the Emerald Isle
The short days were getting longer. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the blue hour created the magic of the darkest phase of twilight. It was time to put Oliver to bed. Yaya felt the muse come alive when he asked for a story.
By Katherine D. Graham2 days ago in Wander
Comments (4)
I love the use of candle as a verb at the end. Reminiscent of the wisp of smoke that dances about the wick and fades after one blows out the candle, as it seems you intended.
Loved this line so much: I’m a tilted rose bowing before you
Outstanding love poem. Lovin your line, "I will bottle up the fragrance." 💖💕
I like the analogy of the rose.🌹Well done!