The Dubarry Perfumery
By birksy
The Dubarry Perfumery, what a majesty you were, Thousands of feet of productionised smells, bottled and powdered, I wonder how you coped. Summer must have been fragrant, Winter a musk, and other times the aroma sat about the place, a subtle reminder of the reason for work. Now the windows are broken, You're essence dispersed, leaked out to the air already polluted, and just a few figures move, in the renovated rooms, but still you proudly show your name, I rather think you don't know what's happened within, and why should you? Keep your age, it does wonders for the mind.The Dubarry Perfumery is a run-down building I pass each day on the train. It is an interesting faded-pink colour. I wrote this poem on a hot summers day - thinking about what it must have been like in its hay-day - and also commenting on how it's been left to pretty much fall down. It's an imposing building - leading me to think that it has a proud feel about it. Written June 26th, 2001 © on Dec 28 2001 09:34 PM PST, Simon Birks 0 • 9
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"The Dubarry Perfumery,..."