Are plump and juicy fine,
But sweeter far as wise men know
Spring from the woodland vine.
No need for bowl or silver spoon,
Sugar or spice or cream,
Has the wild berry plucked in June
Beside the trickling stream.
One such to melt at the tongue's root,
Confounding taste with scent,
Beats a full peck of garden fruit:
Which points my argument.
May sudden justice overtake
And snap the froward pen,
That old and palsied poets shake
Against the minds of men.
Blasphemers trusting to hold caught
In far-flung webs of ink,
The utmost ends of human thought
Till nothing's left to think.
But may the gift of heavenly peace
And glory for all time
Keep the boy Tom who tending geese
First made the nursery rhyme.
Wild strawberries, strawberry flower, vanilla-infused sugar, early summer grasses, and milky dandelion sap.
This scent went from "whoa!" to "oooh!" to "hmm" on me. At first, it was "whoa, strawberry candy!", very bright and sweet. Then, it was "oooh, neat, actual strawberries," like the smell of a patch of them, berries and their leaves. Then, it turned to something sort of... almost soapy. Clean. Vaguely sweet, but not strongly berry-fruity. Still alright, but not wonderful. And it ended up, after the soapy edge faded, as mostly dandelion sap and strawberry leaves, but very, very faint.
I'll hang onto this one regardless, 'cause it's my 30th birthday moon, but it'll need a retest before I decide if I really like it. If it stayed in the second phase, I'd be in lurve.
Edited by Ravenclaw79, 16 May 2009 - 10:50 PM.