Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2021 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   395030 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry


Read Poetry
<< [Previous]

Not My Season

Like The Wind In The Middle Of The Night

The Hoping

Better To Bend Than Be Broken (CHANGE)

Belle Du Jovan

The Hope Of All These Things Which Would Never Come In a Box

The Best Revenge (For All Your Critic's Critiques)

Informed Through Pain

All Too Clearly Now

The Birds Are Such Un-numbering Creatures of Distant Hitchcockian Past


Silver-Tongued Devil


The Factory of Resentments

Expect Yourself

They Grew (A Poem From The Imaginarium)

One Which Brings Me Unending Release

Where The Weird Actually Tried To Turn Pro


Within The Green Wind Becomes The Fall

Open Lines

You Got Your Lilly Back


I Write This To Remember

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

This Snake

What Could a Death Meet-Up Have To Offer?

Where The Dead Don't Mind...

Canis Latrans

I Wish God Had Better Magic

For Another Mean New Sun.


More Poetry >>


  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook


Belle Du Jovan

its scent
reminds me of my distant past
and my ever-gaining distance to
the past

a whiff of it
and I'm transported
for me
is pure heaven
a bottle filled with
nostalgia and memories

I gasp when
I chance upon a vial
or a bottle of it

I've spent both money and
borrowed precious time
to think about it

its as if I'm floating
on a carpet of clouds
or within the stuff of lost dreams

days when my hair grew long and tangled
and the better seasons seemed to last

when the wind blew behind me
I'd laugh at my recklessness
as I rode none-handed
as a used my right knee to steer
down steep hills on my Schwinn
pretending to fly

Belle was with me
the first time I danced
she gave me courage
enough to say yes
to a stranger

if men noticed me
Belle played a part in it
the fingerlings of her scent
lingering and sinuing through the air
ensnaring male attention

I became a secret garden
the scent of a gardenia and rose
on a languid hot summer early morning

Belle made me feel richer
older, wiser
wiser than my 18 years
she gave me a right to claim
someone I had not yet become

so not ready too
was I
for all that attention
nor intentions

as I sit quietly with you
thoughts flood in
I recall
a specific kind of happiness
and excitement
and how it rushed over me
back then
as the wind makes a leaf shudder

the power in a rose
or in a gardenia
to transform an ordinary Midwestern girl
into a young woman,
is extraordinary

in you
I have made
a loyal and constant friend.

legal copyright for this poem 10:37PM December 16 2019
time/date stamped
re-edited for clarity and effect December 18th 2019 7:03pm PST
time/date stamped.
and also for this legally copyrighted writer
Melissa A. Howells and also for this legally copyrighted
site title Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World

Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem


 Email Address


Vote for this poem