b ~ Is it perfume from a dress/ That makes me so digress?

pictures 130 (Small)

Silky dresses, high heels, expensive perfume;
elegant, extravagant gifts meant to impress.
These are meant for someone else.
I’ve never known how to teeter totter along in heels
or worry about pulling down the hem of my skirt.

Yet I do know how a dress can change your outlook,
shift your perspective and the way you view yourself

The way a prom dress makes me think of my high school boyfriend
or putting on ruffles for Sunday Easter service
seems like a candy coated dream I once had.
The wedding dress that was altered and tucked and sewed upon.
Appliques, trim and buttons down the back.
Packed up tight until a future generation unwraps
the loveliness within.

Now there are long plaid skirts and boots,
corduroys when the temperatures dip.
Soon there will be time for twirly skirts,
Mary janes and linen shirts.

Yet the scent I wear in the morning
transports me to another time,
another place.
It lifts me up and fills me with hope.

Citrus on some days.
Rose petals on others.

I had a citron parfum
that I brought back from Paris.
I wore it sparingly
until it was gone and only the bottle remains.
Stashed away in the back of the cupboard,
too pretty to throw away.

Dresses you can pass down~
be it prom, wedding or Sunday best.
But perfume must be worn,
spritzed without care;
for if it sits too long
it loses its scent,
its magic,
its power.

The lesson here for me:
Use what you have
don’t let it slip away.

But there are other scents
crisp, clear and clean.
You only need to step outside
and smell the freshly mown grass,
the electricity of a  spring storm,
the laundry lightly starched from the sun.

Or turn the knob and push the door open
to be greeted by
holiday pies ready to come out of the oven,
grapefruit bubble bath frothing in the tub,
or breathe in deeply as someone you love
hugs you back.

The days of dress-up are long gone
those too long skirts and pretend heels
of yesterday are packed away.
Now the clothes in the closet
greet me each morning,
waiting for me to decide
who I will be today.

About andi

Writer, editor, wrangler of small boys and dogs.

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