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Its the sweet, simple
things of life which are
the real ones after all.
- Laura Ingalls Wilder

Inhale
Newly laundered linen, blowing in the bright sunlit breeze
The evocative holiday smell of salt, freshly sprayed from the sea's
Just picked ripe fruits, Strawberries, Apples and Plums
The old familiar smell of germolene, applied to sore cut thumbs
Flowers releasing their fragrance into the warm air of June
The lure of frying bacon as it's smokiness drifts through the room
A Sunday afternoon walk, into a dense Pine forest deep
The smouldering burnt woodiness, that smokes from a bonfires heap
A new cars first drive, and inhaling, the newness of soft leather seats
The virginal scented freshness, of a bed made with crisply ironed sheets
The dizzy high of breathing in the fix of just cut grass
Coffee grains fresh aroma as seals are pierced in just bought jars
The enticing sweet addiction encouraged by a new box of chocs
The aged smell of sawn wood as it emits from an open fires logs
The scents of bath cubes wafting, in the steam of just opened bathrooms
The heady familiarity left behind by a loved one's perfume.
~Sani~

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