In context, in my garden, emerging from behind the vast and arching silver cardoon and framed between two dark yews I think it will earn its keep. Get up close - and this a rose, which being virtually thornless, lets you do just that - and breathe in its intense perfume. Pink is a smell, soft, sweet and powdery. It hits the spot. It is a reason for living.
In this essentially visual medium I am at a loss to describe this flower's smell. To say that it is err, 'rose scented' is stating the bleedin' obvious. Of course it is. Were I a parfumier or wine taster I might pick up other references in its bouquet; subtle and complex associations, high, middle and base notes.
Instead I think less sophisticated thoughts. I think 'Turkish Delight' and 'Jelly Babies' - but they have taken their flavour from the rose and not the other way round of course. I have to agree with Edward Lear:
And if you voz to see my roziz
As is a boon to all men's noziz, -
You'd fall upon your back and scream -
'O Lawk! O criky! it's a dream!'