Indian birch tar
Indian wormwood
Madagascan ylang-ylang
Benzoin absolute
Indian cistus absolute
Indian patchouli
Indian Bourbon vanilla
Texas cedar
Floyd
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Witch's Brew
Sleepily, my weary gaze creeps out from a dimly lit black corner of a shabby cedar wood hut, where I lie in dancing shadows, towards the green glow, the glowing crucible, the smoldering mists, the softly wafting figure in the robe and the gnarled, bony features.
'Birch tar and herbal brew - In this concoction lies witch's spawn'
She speaks without moving her lips as she sprinkles various herbs into the bubbling percolate, allowing veils of different colors to softly shimmer, sometimes menthol-bright, sometimes greenish bitter, sometimes olive-sweet-earthy, the sparks flickering before her face, from whose wrinkled leathery skin black beads of sweat from birch tar continuously seep into the brew.
'Patchouli and pure benzoin - So shall you be favorably inclined towards me'
Interwoven with greenish glowing herbal blood in black pulsating birch tar veins, amber-colored benzoin bubbles, medicinally resinous, sweet leathery scented into the old earth of the wooden barrack. Was there a forest somewhere, a world outside the oil-shaped witch's hut on my skin? I close my eyes contentedly for a few quiet hours, perhaps a little enchanted.
(With thanks to Stanze)
'Birch tar and herbal brew - In this concoction lies witch's spawn'
She speaks without moving her lips as she sprinkles various herbs into the bubbling percolate, allowing veils of different colors to softly shimmer, sometimes menthol-bright, sometimes greenish bitter, sometimes olive-sweet-earthy, the sparks flickering before her face, from whose wrinkled leathery skin black beads of sweat from birch tar continuously seep into the brew.
'Patchouli and pure benzoin - So shall you be favorably inclined towards me'
Interwoven with greenish glowing herbal blood in black pulsating birch tar veins, amber-colored benzoin bubbles, medicinally resinous, sweet leathery scented into the old earth of the wooden barrack. Was there a forest somewhere, a world outside the oil-shaped witch's hut on my skin? I close my eyes contentedly for a few quiet hours, perhaps a little enchanted.
(With thanks to Stanze)
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