May Lunacy and Other Updates

++ BPTP

ANTIQUE LACE HAIR GLOSS (100 unit limit)
Nostalgia encapsulated. A soft, wistful blend of dry flowers, aged linens, and the faint breath of long-faded perfumes.

We were able to make a limited run of Antique Lace: five-hundred bottles have been released from the attic, and another one-hundred hair glosses for Black Phoenix Trading Post. We don’t know when or if we will be able to make more.

$40

  • Antique Lace

    Nostalgia encapsulated. A soft, wistful blend of dry flowers, aged linens, and the faint breath of long-faded perfumes.

    We were able to make a limited run of Antique Lace: five-hundred bottles have been released from the attic, and another one-hundred hair glosses for Black Phoenix Trading Post. We don’t know when or if we will be able to make more.

  • Strawberry Moon

    Strawberries that in gardens grow
    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.

    – Robert Graves

    Wild strawberries, strawberry flower, vanilla-infused sugar, early summer grasses, purple coneflower, white sage, and milky dandelion sap.

  • A Song: When June is Past, the Fading Rose

    Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
    When June is past, the fading rose;
    For in your beauty’s orient deep
    These flowers as in their causes, sleep.

    Ask me no more whither doth stray
    The golden atoms of the day;
    For in pure love heaven did prepare
    Those powders to enrich your hair.

    Ask me no more whither doth haste
    The nightingale when May is past;
    For in your sweet dividing throat
    She winters and keeps warm her note.

    Ask me no more where those stars light
    That downwards fall in dead of night;
    For in your eyes they sit, and there,
    Fixed become as in their sphere.

    Ask me no more if east or west
    The phoenix builds her spicy nest;
    For unto you at last she flies,
    And in your fragrant bosom dies.

    – Thomas Carew

    Amber-gilded summer roses fading; sandalwood dust, cassia and sweet myrrh, and threads of lavender.

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