Thursday, March 3, 2011


Through all the frozen winter
My nose has grown most lonely
For lovely, lovely colored smells
That come in springtime only.

The purple smell of lilacs,
The yellow smell that blows
Across the air of meadows
Where bright forsythia grows.

The tall pink smell of peach trees,
The low white smell of clover
And everywhere the great green smell
Of grass the whole world over

Poem by Kathryn Worth

1 comment:

The Nielsens said...

Went to the temple today. Walking toward it (this was during those thunder claps and flashes of lightning), I caught a whiff of earth. You know, like someone had turned it over or put peat moss down.