Roses are red, Violets are blue,
Normally this little ditty ends with something about Love…but roses aren’t always red, and poems don’t always rhyme. Thing is, in spring and summer our garden is usually gloriously alive with roses.
That’s the wonderful thing about having a gardener with a green thumb, who loves you beyond reason…always having a “love you” bouquet to greet the day when his rose bushes are blooming.
Thank you D for all the work and all the love.
garden Mr. Lebsock,