Smell of the earth

I stand before the camera,

You beside me,

to be snapped for our photograph

that has to be sent along

with your pension papers.

I am now aware :

We are getting old :

Will my passionate embraces

as before intoxicate you?

Will not the rotten odour of

Old age be repulsive to you?

But Meena,

age cannot exhaust you fragrance,

The smell of flowers freshly bloomed,

of ripe mangoes,

of the earth in the summer rain,

of soil after ploughing;

the musk of your sweats.

Dear, like the earth

You stay always young!

(Image: Painting depicting Hebe, the goddess of youth in Greek mythology. Source: Wikimedia)