Tofuwachtel

Slowly, the fox laces across the freshly plowed field.

Gently, his paws touch the rich brown warm earth.

He picks up the delicate scent of small herbs plowed under.

The soft spicy haze over the ground.

Honey-brown his silky coat shines in the evening sun.

Dull gold reflects the light in his soft brown eyes.

Relaxed and calm, he eventually disappears into the distant undergrowth.

Excited, she was. She had been for many weeks. She and a Max Greger concert. She had gotten this extraordinary gift from Walter for their 20th wedding anniversary after much begging and pleading and forgoing a silver wedding anniversary celebration.

And they would spend the evening together with their neighbours. Marlies and Günther. They even had a car. As Walter used to say ..... Günther is a civil servant. They can afford it, too.
When she brought up the fact that Günther had even allowed his Marlies to work, there was a row. Walter didn't want to know anything about that. He could still feed his family alone. And a woman belonged in the house. Besides, as he always emphasized, they were doing very well.

But also only because she turned over every penny three times while Walter treated himself to an expensive hobby. And yet, over the past few months, she had been squeezing some of the meager household money.

Now she had taken the bus into town. She had already bought the new dress, now she was still missing the hairstyle.

No one could have tousled it higher. Extremely satisfied, she left the shop and looked in the shop window. There it stood. The bottle. She bit her lower lip. Actually, the money wouldn't have been there at all. But for an evening like this, everything should and had to be perfect. She took it with her

When they were picked up in the evening, Marlies just looked her up and down and pinched her lips together. Günther complimented her and nodded appreciatively. She would have liked Walter to do the same, but he had just picked another fight over money and cut her household allowance even more.

Then, as they sat in the Beetle, the perfume gave off its scent. Warm and soft it lay against her skin. Initially a little soapy and also somehow with a soft citrusy nuance, but that quickly subordinated itself to a delicate rose. And there were other sweet florals too, but over that was a subtle powdery as well as spicy veil. And slowly a velvety woody note came in. Laying among the blossoms that now bore little vanilla-yellow speckles, and a few of them had fallen into a shallow bed of moss.
It suited her casually elegant appearance and unforced charming manner.

The evening was a complete success. During the break, Günther invited her to the champagne bar and a stranger did not take his eyes off her. Unobtrusively, he approached her. Looked into her light-browed, alert eyes. And she knew immediately, there would be no more 20 years.

Today she goes to work, drives a car by herself, and still wears this, her scent.
Walter? Once upon a time.

Leather haze so soft.
And uniquely cuddly.

Peach skin so caressingly soft.
Lips so softly raspberry red.

Breath breathes tantalizingly smoky.
Deeply felt shudder.

Disturbingly slow sinking.
In velvety dark blossoms.
Intimate spice embraced.

Sepia brown waving sweet feeling.
Resin flow in amber bliss.
Mystic intimate embrace.

Glowing flaming shadow play.
In the frenzy of infinity.

Slowly trickles a tear
Falls on
Almost forgotten shadows
Of the past

Opens the gate
To the sunny yellow
Living light

Brings buds
To blossom
White and yellow
And also a little
Velvet Red

Lay down warm spice
Enveloping flowing
Into the bouquet
Breathes the blossoms
Profundity

Ripe fruit
Dark soft
In the glow
Of the soft
Sunshine

Delicately wets the
Blossoms edge
Of soft honey resin
Of balsam wood

Comfortingly aromatic
Wrapped in
Floating mist


And rays fall
Of trusting confidence
A wonderful that
Yesterday, today, tomorrow

When dawn
When the night awakens

Then she gets eyes
The darkness

Breaks open
The full buds

Release their nectar
Covered by long shadows

Slowly the earth opens
And spicy haze rises

Dull gleams the wood
Wetted with honey-brown resin

Ripe fruit falls soft
Dips in dark warm moss

Nimble movement
Lurking in the herb

All senses tense
Throbs the heart in sensory intoxication

The owl cries
The morning approaches

The twilight preserves
The mystical dream