S
Sptfyr
Guest
New Dawn In An English Rose Garden
I ramble, a fair stranger, among an English garden
where the finest lovelies dance, bow, and sway
to the songs of nature that fill the sweetest air.
Floral perfumes produce salacious scents
that swirl through the garden, borne on a soft breeze.
Senses enticed, I traverse the stone paths.
Constance Spry is the first along the paths.
She bows gracefully," welcome to my garden".
Her voice, a mere whisper carried on the breeze.
Her long elegant arms branch out and sway
enveloping me with seductive and exquisite scents
of old rose and myrrh absorbed by the very air.
Butterflies and bees, matchmakers of the air,
flit and float between lovers along sun dappled paths
following the dance mapped by a distant lover's scents.
They search secluded sights, secrets within the garden.
A Shropshire lad climbs a trellis in an attempt to sway
a matchmaker to transport his passion along the breeze.
"It's you that I want" came words buzzing on the breeze;
"Will you share your seed with me?" Desire filled the air.
"You want, me?"; I ask, tempted, by his seductive sway.
As wings flutter inside my blossom, I begin to take new paths
and share that which I held so sacred within the "me" garden.
Never before have I known such sensations and new scents.
Still needing more, still wanting more intoxicating scents,
sun soaked trails usher me along, escorted by the breeze.
Eglantyne bears her thorny nails throughout the garden
as words of the rapturous affair float on the sultry air.
Jealousy begins to bloom along shady paths.
Swiftly, I seek shelter under Wildeve's seasoned sway.
Her elegance teaches me how to bow, how to dance and sway.
And, how to give of myself by releasing the fruit of my scents.
As matchmakers flit and float along the fragrance filled paths
I long for them, I call to them with whispers on the wanton breeze.
I heard their songs of nature as I breathed deep their sweetest air
and conceived New Dawn, best in show, loveliest rose in the garden.
A New Dawn is born to sway in the gentlest breeze
as sumptuous scents perfume the sweetest air
and take the paths to find her place in an English rose garden.
******************************************
For those of you who are not familiar with roses, the names I used are all common names of some popular English Roses.
******************************************
I ramble, a fair stranger, among an English garden
where the finest lovelies dance, bow, and sway
to the songs of nature that fill the sweetest air.
Floral perfumes produce salacious scents
that swirl through the garden, borne on a soft breeze.
Senses enticed, I traverse the stone paths.
Constance Spry is the first along the paths.
She bows gracefully," welcome to my garden".
Her voice, a mere whisper carried on the breeze.
Her long elegant arms branch out and sway
enveloping me with seductive and exquisite scents
of old rose and myrrh absorbed by the very air.
Butterflies and bees, matchmakers of the air,
flit and float between lovers along sun dappled paths
following the dance mapped by a distant lover's scents.
They search secluded sights, secrets within the garden.
A Shropshire lad climbs a trellis in an attempt to sway
a matchmaker to transport his passion along the breeze.
"It's you that I want" came words buzzing on the breeze;
"Will you share your seed with me?" Desire filled the air.
"You want, me?"; I ask, tempted, by his seductive sway.
As wings flutter inside my blossom, I begin to take new paths
and share that which I held so sacred within the "me" garden.
Never before have I known such sensations and new scents.
Still needing more, still wanting more intoxicating scents,
sun soaked trails usher me along, escorted by the breeze.
Eglantyne bears her thorny nails throughout the garden
as words of the rapturous affair float on the sultry air.
Jealousy begins to bloom along shady paths.
Swiftly, I seek shelter under Wildeve's seasoned sway.
Her elegance teaches me how to bow, how to dance and sway.
And, how to give of myself by releasing the fruit of my scents.
As matchmakers flit and float along the fragrance filled paths
I long for them, I call to them with whispers on the wanton breeze.
I heard their songs of nature as I breathed deep their sweetest air
and conceived New Dawn, best in show, loveliest rose in the garden.
A New Dawn is born to sway in the gentlest breeze
as sumptuous scents perfume the sweetest air
and take the paths to find her place in an English rose garden.
******************************************
For those of you who are not familiar with roses, the names I used are all common names of some popular English Roses.
******************************************