As the fragrance of frying onions wafts into my tender nostrils,
I can't help but remember the bouquet that would emanate from you sweating body.
The whiff that zoomed throughout my senses when your arms reached out to me,
will remain with me forever, a symbol of our opposing cohesion.
Those oh so sultry summer nights when you reeked of old boots and wet socks
are an everlasting, tangy keepsake of an amour that could never be.
Ahh I savour scent of your torrid breath after eating mexican beans
while concurrently I sniffed the air of that flatulence, rendering me unconscious.
With sudden jolt reality strikes as burnt onions fill my being
and I am reminded of my penchant for burnt onions to your aromatic, sensational odours.
Author notes
4. Onions and other lovers. (10 lines more or less)
In a list
A contest entry
- PIF PROMPT CONTEST by penman.
525 points, ended March 8, 2008, 8 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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oh i just ordered some red onions yesterday for shopping delivered in a couple of days - not for frying though, but i do love that smell -
now i am going to heave lol old boots and wet socks, what sort of cafe is this! i did not order wet socks, i think i did ask for the boots though. mmm beans - doh! a good fun poem, the scents are magnificent.
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I liked this when I read it did not get to comment as my son was wanting to play a game congrats to you on your gold!
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Wonderful
Very well done. Best of luck in the contest.
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Superb, I thought the humour was absolute gold. I enjoyed the constrasting attraction you displayed in the poem. Wistful, entertaining and a nice smooth flow. Great poem.
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