Out back
where the garden bench
beckons
a wild tangle of roses
spices the air.
Brenda Warren 2015
Day 12, and I’m running out of poetic steam. This picture is from last summer. I’ll miss my Montana roses, but the bench is coming along for the ride.
Adventures in Poetry and Writing
brenda warren
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That is lovely, but I know what you mean about missing the old garden.
In our rented house, the ‘garden’ is minute and we’re not allowed to make flower beds etc. The work of the old one was killing us, but I still miss the scent of roses everywhere.
I hope your poetic steam renews itself – and mine!
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