The days of wine and roses

The roses have never been more beautiful. The formula? Rain, rain, rain and finally sun. And a touch of fertilizer. I'll brag a bit this morning and say these are some of my best flower photos, too. All taken with the beat-up camera I've been banging around since 2004. Nothing lasts forever, and it's finally starting to show signs of abuse. Weird, random lines that look like bad TV reception are showing up in images. I can Photoshop them out, but do I really want to keep doing that? So that means the scary thought of fumbling around trying to learn a new digital device.

The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.

But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush in its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips.

John Boyle O'Reilly

They are not, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream,
Our path emerges for a while, then closes,
Within a dream.

Ernst Dowson

O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve's like the melodie
That’s sweetly play'd in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Robert Burns

She's the sweetest little rosebud that Texas ever knew,
Her eyes are bright as diamonds, they sparkle like the dew;
You may talk about your Clementine, and sing of Rosalee,
But the yellow rose of Texas is the only girl for me.