And The Roses

Like ladies at a garden party
day lilies lean slightly tipsy by steps
leading into a pebbled courtyard

Sprays of scarlet roses droop
and invite my nose to press in
I inhale, the bees have nothing on me

Scent of summer fills the air
each bloom intoxicating
warm air suffused with perfume

Bees burrow in like lovers
then back out, dazed and weaving
drunk on golden nectar

Stand at the threshold
with antlers, fern, and roses

listen for the sound of bells
know then — my kin are close

and the roses

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About elainereardon

Poet, writer, gardener, herbalist, beginner artist- pottery, painting—communing with Spirits of the Forest and Field, bumping into magic, peeking around new corners.
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