No products in the cart.
(The Ring of Sensuousness)
If springtime didn’t occur for every flower, there would be something wrong with the vernal season
The longing of the flower to blossom, to distill perfumes, attract insects and pollen and so fill the moorland with chromatisms, bustle, music and contemplation is spring’s nature; it is the same yearning of love of all love flutters. Despite this, certain flowers bloom late, and some wither without opening. There is enough sun to make alive every spring flower. If you measure springtime with the scents of dreams, the freshness of ideas, the caresses of illusions, it is something that will always stand in front of you, never behind. So shrug off those few unnecessary dried petals, and enjoy the chill air, dew, wind, the excitement of new dances and new loves, the soft and unrestrained song of a never-ending spring. A drop of sandalwood oil every new moon, between the finger and the stones of the ring. A bright and cheerful chrysoberyl; and an excited tiny pink unfettered ruby without the maturity of a bound red. And even a little diamond, small, but very light. You will put it on on your right hand more easily; and it does not matter whether alone or with other rings. And you’ll play with its light, where you will eye the reflection of your looks.
