Is it the perfume of your veins’ deep flow,
Or the whisper-kiss from the dear one’s glow?
Sense—
Whence comes the dusk-born moth to flutter nigh?
Is it bloom’s welcome to vernal embrace,
Or the past unfolding with gentle grace?
Hear intently—
Whence springs the breath of dawn, the day’s soft sigh?
Tag: scent
Scents
She stains the walls of my heart
In the scents of her intimate garden
©VISHALDUTIA
Vishal Dutia 