Impassioned desire stands yearning at the door. Fingers reaching through, anointing dripping off His finger tips. The fragrance fills the room and stirs His sleeping bride. Dreams stir and her heart arises. She knows that fragrance even in her sleep. Her face smiles and her breath settles – still she sleeps. His hand upon the door; He gently rattles it. He whispers her name – it settles in the room. His call is gentle as His heart.

His longing could shake the mountains loose; His yearning so powerful, the oceans would not fill the place that only one look from His bride could fill. He waits – the door is locked within.

She stirs; fresh fragrance fills the room as His hand reaches through. Fragrance envelopes wisps of the hair He’s touched so gently. Delight fills His heart in just the touch of her hair!

She wakens and stretches, smiling sweetly at her dreams. They are so pleasant – if only He would come! She looks out on her world through her door and smells fragrance as her hair brushes her face.

Where did that sweet smell come from?

Author – Bill Tidsbury