Chartreuse in a glass
There is beauty in this glass:
Cracking ice like tiny bergs
Transient crystal, voids within
The softening cubes expand,
Burst a little, melting
As spring green
Like liquid peridot
Shimmers as I pour.
Aroma of two hundred
Secret herbs, closely guarded,
Rises, sweet and fragrant
As a sunlit garden filled
With all the flowers
Of a long forgotten Eden.
Each sip a shifting of flavour
A kaleidoscope for the senses
Teasing the brain for recognition.
Elixir. Cordial. Magic.
