A Scent Of Cloves

Walking through a crowd of people
my hair flowing long, unbound
barefoot, not caring who notices
leaving footprints in the soft muddy ground

Merchants cry out as I pass
bartering their wares and their time
a multitude of sights and sounds
aromas stimulating my senses to the sublime

A fragrant gift, offered freely with desire
a hand lingering tenderly near
footsteps now tracing my own path
the one I love has followed me here

In this marketplace of my dreams
the scent of cloves and oranges will endure
a memory created from your simple gift
marks the day you offered your love so pure

Lora Frikken ~ 11-4-06