Seasoned scents (English sonnet)
A scent that blossoms every Christmas time
brings thoughts of when we'd sit around the tree
the air would fill with smells of festive pine
your presence was a gift enough for me.
A box that sparked a smile upon your face
your toe would twitch with joy into a curl
a glow that shimmered white up from a case
your love of life was that of mother-pearl.
We'd always play our best-loved Christmas tune
a melody that wrapped our hearts as one
we schmoozed and smooched beneath a crisp-full moon
and always hoped we'd never come undone
I won't forget our love this Christmas eve
but seasoned scents will haunt me as I grieve