Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;…So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip Into my bosom and be lost in me.

Even though our rose bushes in pots look ratty for most of the year, I still cherish the flowers we get in milder weather. This will be the last one on “Seduction” until September. It was cold and damp out there in the backyard, with clouds drifting down from the foggy hills and would have really got me down this time last year. But this year I’m happy and have planted bulbs and seedlings ready for spring, trimmed the roses a bit and given our cumquats a tonic. The snails have been disposed of- unfortunately they ate the Tree Dahlias before the flowers came out, but next year I’ll be more alert to them.
I’ve rediscovered poetry recently- not in a big way, but I’m cruising through some Frost and TS Eliot in spare moments. I just happened upon this Tennyson quote about petals and thought it was a good match to this photo.

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One thought on “Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;…So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip Into my bosom and be lost in me.

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