Guerlain Vetiver | Short Poem No. 11

Guerlain Vetiver.

It’s familiar, yet different.

Like something lost in time.

Something of the smell the quality,

I picture an old English wood. A wool suit.

And as I write my poetry,

it takes me to another place.

A place by a fire, a bloodhound by my feet.

As I whimsically write away,

even in a newfound accent I’ve discovered myself to have.

Guerlain Vetiver, blog, writes, best, poem, poems, poetry, cologne, perfume

If I was an old Englishman, living in an old world,

I’d be the king of the country.

But, no, I live in the day of bubblegum and soap.

So, today, Chanel it is.

I may not rule the old world, but at least I’ll rule today.

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