The smell of the nape of a woman's neck
the smell of fresh baked german rye
the smell of a baby
the smell of the ash and cinder and steel as I work the forge
the smell of fresh paint as I squeeze it out on to my pallett
the smell of magniola in bloom
the smell of the air just before a storm hits,and after
the smell my nephews have with there bringing of a life still full of wonder,
sand in thier shoes after a day at the beach,going to the fair,counting stars and fireflies.
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Trust is indeed a shiny jewel,set in the stone of friendship.And much like any other stone can be use to crush the skulls of those unsuspecting.To clear the path for me to claim my rightfull place as master of all I survey.
[This message has been edited by sageridder (edited 09-07-2001).]