Dear Inception of Fragrances,
I remember that day of the Sun,
When like every other day,
Numerous dreams were sown.
When the weather smelled the morning breeze,
And whispered sweet nothings across the seas.
The magic transcended realms,
One could have ever felt or seen.
When we met, as the serendipitous moments chose,
In the swaying fragrance - of the quaint rose.
Love,
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