This poem, like others, was inspired by Barcelona’s lovely vegetation. I was walking home from work at about 8 p.m. and found myself enveloped in a heady fragrance that reminded me of my grandmother.
Jasmine I walk through curtains of jasmine. It smells like movie stars... the ones who wore those négligées, and winked at men in bars. A fragrance out of fashion, in close quarters, it's too sweet. But in a city on an evening in the summer, it's a treat.
3 thoughts on “Jasmine”
I love jasmine, I planted some to climb up the front of my house. But it doesn’t get many flowers on it for some reason. It’s nice in green tea too ;-)
Thanks, Anonymous! Do you live on the Mediterranean coast? Maybe it’s the privileged climate here. I know nothing about growing flowers. I just enjoy them.
Fabulous and timely as I was just thinking about how the star jasmine (same you describe in your poem) at our house in Valldoreix is now at its peak and just smells divine! Missing it and you!