The Smell of Seasons

 The Smell of Seasons

The air is rich with whispers old,

Stories of seasons in scents unfold.

Each breeze, each gust, a tale conveys,

Of shifting skies and fleeting days.

The spring arrives with a fragrant breeze,

Soft perfume borne on budding trees.

A lilac’s bloom, a tulip’s hue,

Promise of life, of morning dew.

The earth awakens, the soil is sweet,

Petrichor rises where rains compete.

A garden’s blush, a meadow’s green,

Scents of renewal in every scene.

Then summer speaks in a warmer tone,

With citrus sharp and grasses mown.

The sea salt air, the sunscreen’s trace,

Hints of adventure, sun-kissed embrace.

A bonfire’s smoke at dusk ascends,

Its ashen breath where laughter bends.

Fruits hang ripe, their sugars drift,

Scents of bounty, the season’s gift.

Autumn steps in, her robes ablaze,

With crisping air and golden haze.

The spice of cider, the smoke of leaves,

Pumpkin flesh, and harvest sheaves.

The wind carries notes of drying wood,

Of forests deep and pine where they stood.

The musky earth, the cooling nights,

Signal her passing in fading lights.

Winter then hums a frosty song,

Its sharp, clean breath where chills belong.

The icy tang of the snowflake’s fall,

Echoes in silence blanketing all.

The pine and fir in wreaths delight,

With cinnamon’s warmth on a starry night.

Fireside embers, their smoky embrace,

Bring comfort within the cold’s stern face.

Each season’s smell a fleeting thread,

Weaves through the days, alive or dead.

They linger soft, on heart and mind,

A timeless map that scents have signed.

For in the air, in nature’s art,

The seasons speak, they touch the heart.

To smell is to wander, to breathe, to be,

A living part of eternity.

So let each breath in time remind,

Of seasons past and those aligned.

For scents endure where time may wane,

And bring the seasons’ soul again.