Decanted for an hour.5
Nose: Chocolate dusted dried cherry, earthy. Etherial. The cap, when you walk into the Fermenetation room. Dates.
Palate: shredded Cranberry. Orange pekoe tea. Padrone Anniversario tobacco. Caramel. The aroma of cinnamon. Oregano. Mocha java. Sliced plums. Clove.
Your cousin’s getting married; Man-the hotel’s all marble and gold leaf. The leather from the luggage smells good as you set it on the bed. Hugging him with a kiss, you do the same with the bride, the intoxicating scent of her perfume lingering in the air.
There’s a 6L sitting on the table next to the table with all the glasses. The spread before the dinner of hors d’ovres is the meat of the matter at the moment.
You see her talking to the bride, smiling at you. Sneaking a glance.
Step out on the porch, look at the ocean; you lick the cigar, and hold it. You don’t light it. Just hold it.
There’s a violet sun coming thought the pane glass of the greenhouse.
But maybe that’s just my imagination. Someone lights a clove outside now.
Your mouth waters, as you step over to the cutting block table set with fruit and Brie, Humboldt fog. The oak calls to you from the balcony “Stella”.
This is last long 2-minute finish, dripping with a dark red fruit fountain, with just enough acidity to make your mouth just plain water.
Somehow the blend of old 60’s Motown and Margaux works. I ain’t too proud to beg.
The wine’s eye fades clear to brick, caramel to garnet.
The 1983 Margaux comes up, entwines her arm with yours and you walk out and ask the valet for the car. It’s raining now; you can hear the car tires slicing- and you don’t care. Beauty rides high held within a body of the 27-year-old dark haired, caramel skinned woman. You’ve got at least 5-10 more years of the honeymoon.
Graceful and Strong.
Chateau Prieure Lichine 1983
92 pts.
Nose: Chocolate dusted dried cherry, earthy. Etherial. The cap, when you walk into the Fermenetation room. Dates.
Palate: shredded Cranberry. Orange pekoe tea. Padrone Anniversario tobacco. Caramel. The aroma of cinnamon. Oregano. Mocha java. Sliced plums. Clove.
Your cousin’s getting married; Man-the hotel’s all marble and gold leaf. The leather from the luggage smells good as you set it on the bed. Hugging him with a kiss, you do the same with the bride, the intoxicating scent of her perfume lingering in the air.
There’s a 6L sitting on the table next to the table with all the glasses. The spread before the dinner of hors d’ovres is the meat of the matter at the moment.
You see her talking to the bride, smiling at you. Sneaking a glance.
Step out on the porch, look at the ocean; you lick the cigar, and hold it. You don’t light it. Just hold it.
There’s a violet sun coming thought the pane glass of the greenhouse.
But maybe that’s just my imagination. Someone lights a clove outside now.
Your mouth waters, as you step over to the cutting block table set with fruit and Brie, Humboldt fog. The oak calls to you from the balcony “Stella”.
This is last long 2-minute finish, dripping with a dark red fruit fountain, with just enough acidity to make your mouth just plain water.
Somehow the blend of old 60’s Motown and Margaux works. I ain’t too proud to beg.
The wine’s eye fades clear to brick, caramel to garnet.
The 1983 Margaux comes up, entwines her arm with yours and you walk out and ask the valet for the car. It’s raining now; you can hear the car tires slicing- and you don’t care. Beauty rides high held within a body of the 27-year-old dark haired, caramel skinned woman. You’ve got at least 5-10 more years of the honeymoon.
Graceful and Strong.
Chateau Prieure Lichine 1983
92 pts.
