The smell of fresh pines

The smell of fresh pines

The smell of fresh pines

The smell of fresh pines
Tickle my olfactory memory;
Instantly everything shines
Everything comes back to me

My heart travels back to infancy
And recollect all the joy, the laughter,
All the colors of that day I see
And watch happily as it remembers

Oh that scent of fresh pines
It is a time travel machine
That takes me and my mind
In a beautiful Christmas dream

Those magical moments return
And I forget about the pandemics
And of everything else that hurts
Of everything that adds to the ache mix

Then unfolds in front of my eyes
The gifts, the warmth of love
A festive ambiance of big size
Happiness, when I open our treasure trove

So let the magical spirit of December
Float inside of our tired heart
And might the pines make us remember
The Christmas of our childish heart.

-Eiravel-

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