Submission by Gowan Daisy Ditchburn

Sensory Bliss

Let the crisp air tingle on my nose,
as I blow a ripple down my clothes.
All is still.

Rising sun through willow trees,
an emerald light of fantasy,
Hand on rock, so rough to touch,
bubbles of lava cold.

tasty smells of baking bread,
grass crinkled with every tread,
I feel at home

Birds sing in chorus,
a warbled melody.
Flowing from all around,
spilling from every tree

Scent of flowers in the air,
the faintest breeze in my hair,
I am here

Moving through this space,
interwoven with the place,
we are one.

No detail unseen,
No texture unfelt,
No sound unheard,
No scent unsmelled.

Sensory bliss.