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Wild Colors

Sweet and wonderful are smell of dry air in the breezy and solitary open
LIke that of bread soaked in margarine, quasi burned in the oven

The taste is remindful of romantic acquaintances hewn to fields of Roses
Stretched afar, to where the lands open to other lands of colors and scents

The fineness of delicious scents, nose-alluring grow with the passing wind
The signal it passes undiluted, without mix of any kind, unpurified

Sometimes these scents come from the forsaken wild,
From dusts, pushed about by the browned roadside

Lonely nights come with these memories of pretty smells
Designed, packaged and yet revealed by Nature to all