Growing rows of amber waved in the hot wind
Reaching for one of the sheathes, she pulled the kernels free
And rubbed them against each other in her hands, freeing the seeds from their husks
It released a wonderful smell of summer turning toward fall
Nodding she walked back to the farmhouse. Tomorrow they would harvest.
Gripping the dirt like he was afraid to fall into the sky
Really it was his muscles clenching all at once
Outside the thunder rumbled, marking sonically where he had been zapped
Under those angry clouds, the smell of ozone persisted
Not that the people with the ski masks on noticed. They were too busy trying to flee, but they
Didn’t have time because Thor stood back up and smiled. “Now it’s my turn.”
Crispy fluffy white popped kernels pour out of the kettle
Obscene amounts of liquid butter soon flow over the alabaster landscape slightly seasoned with salt
Releasing that signature smell in the air that screams movie time
Now for the show that is me consuming of this mountain of magnificence
Washing her hands of the situation, she put away the cleaning supplies.
It was far past the point of no return, but it would still be proper to make things tidy
Perhaps she could even burn a candle to help with the smell.
Except the police would be here soon, so it was time to be off.
Putting globules of memories into the air
Enabling the scent of the past to permeate the world
Rose and citrus mixed with grandma and the lake
Funny how smell is the sense that triggers all this
Urging us to remember
Molding the moment into something nostalgic
Except when it causes us to sneeze
She was so well grounded
That the emotional lightning around her would just fizzle out
And left those around her with a sense of calm
But the smell of drama ozone remained
Letting them know how close they had been to being zapped
Everyone wishes they had a friend like that
Stench of burnt sugar permeated the kitchen,
Making the smoke detector chime in with its opinion on the situation.
Everyone came running in to see what happened.
Lee just shrugged and put the butter away in the fridge.
Looks like they would have to settle for plain ice cream, and that just stinks!
Boy could those men tell you stories amid the smell of talc and aftershave
About times in the past that people have forgotten
Remembering with such clarity the neighborhood throughout time
Because they had been there for a combined hundred-sixty years
Everyone came there to sit in those ancient green chairs and listen raptly
Relishing their experience with those historians. The haircuts weren’t too bad either.
While being gluten free was not the lifestyle she wanted
Her choices were that or get sick as her body destroyed itself
Eventually she would get used to the changes in her diet
And find awesome alternatives to those things she loved to eat
The smell of fresh baked bread would always bring a tear to her eye
Sometimes they just contemplated their closet
Here were so many choices of things to wear
It boggled their mind how they had so much and yet nothing at the same time
Realizing that they should just get rid of most of it, but what would they keep?
That’s when they gave up and just wore what they wore yesterday
Since it didn’t smell yet