Fresh Bread Poem by Alan Bruce Thompson

Is it possible with just words to conjure up a smell,
Do the words ‘burning flesh" remind you of Hell?

And the mere mention of the breath of a lady's perfume,
Remind your nose of a flower field in June?

Or when you just hear of the train's dining car,
Does your nasal proboscis twitch from afar?

Then there's the written description of the baking of bread,
Sends images of croissants and baguettes through my head.

Does the telling of pipes and cigars evoke smells from the deep,
Oh No, it's my trousers burning as I wake from my sleep!