It's not a freshly bloomed one. Right ?
I love all the pink...and the words that came with it are just so pretty as well. I think I shall dare tell my Hubzy to bring me home roses tonight...That way I can smell your rose over here...
Mmmmm, the Blake, the senses of the poet.I could not comment yesterday btw because all those pics of all those people just sitting and reading and 'contemplating' and relaxing over coffee, etc. was just too much for me. ;))
Autumn has always filled me with some strange sadness. Longing for a departed Summer. Anxiety at the arrival of Winter.And hope for a Spring just beyond. As Paul Verlaine said:Les sanglots longsDes violons de l'automneBlessent mon coeurD'une langueur monotone.
Cuckoo:I photographed it this past Saturday. It had rained all week, turning the blossom into a raggedy rose. ;-)LADY LUXIE:I hope you did get a beautiful rose or two. :-)Sally Crawford from London:Mia cara poetessa!You sensitive soul, I hope you found a place to linger as well and recoup from the ravages of sightseeing. ;-)Cream:I feel blessed: there the poetess, here the poem-writer-giver. You always have the nicest lines. Thank you. :-)I like to wallow in autumn melancholy, it's sweet and mellow to me. "The mellow air brought in the feel of imminent autumn", it is as Thomas Hardy saíd so well.
William Blake... I don't know how many times I found his words to be just what I needed to hear. I wonder if he ever thought about all the people, yet to be born that would find his thoughts so perfect. I've enjoyed your red hunt(Hunt for Red October)and your roses very much.
I love Monday's Rose.Paz
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