The beauty of a rose in bud and blossom, perfect petals in colours made in heaven, sweet scented in bouquets of subtle beauty never quite forgotten.
An armoured beetle soldiers on,
A force of life in the heat of the sun,
Long and slender with leatherlike wings,
Polllinating flowers in the early spring.
Magnificent butterfly with black velvet wings,
I see your white spotted tips and bright orange bands,
A welcome migrant from northern climes,
A symbol of transformation, joy and happy times.
Honey scented matico, a magnet for bees,
Bright orange ball flowers attract them with ease,
Bursting with nectar and pollen to please:
A delicious scent on a gentle breeze.
Hamless hoverfly, gardener's friend,
A suit so glossy with striking bands,
With wings that hover at impossible speeds,
This skilled deceiver mimics bees.
Feeding on aphids, bugs and thrips,
Pollinating flowers where're she goes,
Like a hornet but with larger eyes and lack of sting,
The stunning belted hoverfly is a beautiful thing.
.
A red spotted moth found on the dunes,
Resting on a striking Viper's-Bugloss bloom,
Glossy black with six spots on its long, narrow wings,
Slowly fluttering in and around the reeds.
Head down and diving in,
A bee loves nectar rich thistles like these,
They are bright and lucious and sweet as can be,
With fine cotton hairs on their stems and leaves.
Without a web to catch its food,
The flower crab spider sits and broods,
Laying in wait for an insect, moth or bee,
To land on the flower where they come to feed.
Tiny lemon snail sleeping under a leaf,
Not far from the sea on a sandbar reef;
Tucked up closely to an accommodating friend;
Safe and cosy as the wind blows and the leaves bend.
A riverland wonder from the southern glades,
On her way to her breeding place,
Resting to gather warmth in the sun,
Before going on her way.
Fast and angile, sleek and strong,
With stunning markings in black and gold,
Her beauty would be hard to replace,
A living symbol of elegance, happiness, peace and grace.
A bee can travel ten miles a day to gather food,
Sweet nectar and pollen to feed her brood,
Never a moment's rest for this busy bee,
A joy to hear and a delight to see.
Slow to move but steady and true,
Snails know which way to go,
Carrying their home in their spiral shells,
Reminding us to take our time and consider our decisions well.
In the light of the sun and the heat of the day,
An invisible flower crab lies in wait,
Ready to pounce on some passing prey,
Any bee or bug that happens to come his way.
Imagine a ladybird crossing a road,
A hazardous journey if truth be told,
This little one has a better fate,
A nice steady walk on a sturdy gate.
Beetles know the right way to go,
Come rain or shine or sleet or snow,
They come to caution us from making haste,
To remind us to take the time we need or wait.
It's easy to overlook the little things,
The wisdom they share and the comfort they bring,
Beetles remind us that patience is good,
Be sure to look out for them out in the woods.
New leaves reaching for the sun,
The journey of the rose has just begun,
So delicate in palest lime with reddish stems,
Maturing into a symphony of green.
A silken wrap of petals, pale and true,
Unfolding in the light of Summer sun,
A gift of Nature, promise of delight;
in a blend of palest pink and peach and white.
The first bud emerges in the Spring,
A tiny promise of the sweetest gem,
Encased in a sepal on the stem,
Soon to reveal its petals held within.
Generous Gardener greets a sunny Summer day,
Beautifully formed, and graceful on her stem,
Pale and sweetly scented, petals fold and curl,
In a water lily shape, painted softly in swirls.
A peachy wonder blooming in the sun,
Not the Lovely Lady thought to be,
No matter for her beauty and her grace,
This unnamed rose is heaven scent to me.
An English Rose with gentle petal folds,
A cupped rosette in perfect coloured tones,
The sweetest scent that cannot be compared,
Each rose with a perfect fragrance of its own.
A rose in stunning bloom and perfect form,
Nurtured by the David Austen team,
A legacy of love for 60 years,
An art to bless the gardens we so love.
But when, O Wells! thy roses came to me,
My sense with their deliciousness was spelled,
Soft voices had they, that with tender plea,
Whispered of peace, and truth, and friendliness unquelled.
This sweetest rose is heaven scent,
Named Gertrude for my Nan, her name's sake,
Flowering this first year with radiant blooms,
A treasured gift of love from me to you.
Gertrude Jekylll first to flower in Spring,
Scrolling buds of petals in a swirl,
A treat of scent in shades of perfect pink,
A quintessential scent, delicious fragrance
Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree,
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms,
But which will bloom most contantly?
Flowering from the Spring to Summer's end,
A rose is, in truth, a gardener's friend,
With blooms too beautiful to comprehend,
Colour, form and scent, a perfect blend.
A rose no less delightful at it's end,
A tapestry of yellow, pinks and browns,
A finale of goodness ready to transcend,
In a hip full of seeds, this season's dividend.
A budding rose bud, opening in the sun,
Water droplets glistening from the rain,
Such beauty in a pretty peach-pink hue,
Delightful in a gift of treasures new.
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