The sizzle of bacon awakens the senses,
Tickles the taste buds, destroys my defences,
The smell of mown grass is fresh, sharp and clean,
– a lazy day’s cricket on the village green.
And what of chopped wood? The aroma’s like spice,
Intoxicating, a virtue or vice?
Onions frying in butter, a delicious delight,
Both sounds and smells gorgeous, whets my appetite.
A lavender field, a riot of blue,
Easy on the eye, but the perfume too!
Lovely white lilies, in a long, tall vase,
Vanilla tobacco, expensive cigars.
My mother’s bread baking made us all salivate,
Smell can instantly place us at a time, place and date…