Treasure Island

Res John Burman

(27th October 1942 to 'Not Yet! ' / London, Middlesex, England)

'Cinnamon'


“Cinnamon”

A sliver of cinnamon bark
In my bowl of saffron rice

Oh how that taste and perfume
At once sweet and earthy
Still affects me

I can remember when young
The scent of rolled peelings of
Cinnamon bark
Drying in the tropic sun

I recall as though
From my own past
The words of Michael Ondaatje
And his tale of the
Cinnamon Peelers wife

It is as though I can smell
Her breasts and shoulders
Warm and aromatic
As if my scented hands
Had lovingly caressed her
With the dust
Of that exquisite spice

I seem to remember her
Touching her belly
To MY hands
And saying
“I am the
Cinnamon Peelers wife
Smell me.”

And I remember how
As so many times before
I really WANTED that woman!

Copyright © Res JFB 25th March 2013

Submitted: Saturday, April 20, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, October 02, 2013
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  • Unwritten Soul (4/20/2013 10:45:00 AM)

    A really a nice poem, but it make me laugh a little, hahahaha you done very well...wanna have a coffee with cinnamon? LOL_Soul (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

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