How splendid it is that our 'Rain' Cologne has inspired a poem, sent to us by Claire Quigley (find Claire on twitter at @alcluith)!
Here it is, and we think it captures facets of our beloved 'Rain' really rather fabulously.
Bottle of Rain
This is not the dead rain
lying foul in an urn and spilled
to slake the summer’s thirst
or the dark rain, howling
with ice, that batters
at the fire-bright window.
This is the rain that gives itself
to gravity, free-falling. Landing
fat cat paws on burning streets
that shiver at its touch.
This is the rain that raps a challenge
on the earth, and hangs to hear
the echo of reply. That drops
each rhythm like a gauntlet,
speeds up, laughing, through the dance:
pavane to polka to jig to reel until
there's no air, just the rain and ground
both ringing in a single rising fall.
This is the rain that draws back, spent,
and everything beneath it stunned awake.
Read more about Claire and more of her work, here.