©Aislynn d'Merricksson, 2015
I love the smell of old places.
It is the smell of history,
the scent of fading memory,
the echoes of times long gone.
It wraps around one like gossamer spidersilk,
invisible, ephemeral, yet tangible with all the
weight of decades, centuries, millennia.
It is the scent of coming home.
####################
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this poetic offering. Comments and votes are most appreciated!
YOU ARE READING
Music of the Heart
PoetryPoetry sings the soul. It strums the heartstrings, enlivening. Inspiring. The poems within are a symphony of the soul, the music of my heart. There are serious poems, the solemn chords of cello and violin. There are happy poems, the carefree trill...
