Wrapped in roses,
covered in red
Sun kissed velvet,
feathered in pink
The bard listens,
lavender muse
Colorful words,
fall from the pen
– – –
Photo: Shakespeare’s Birthplace, Stratford-Upon-Avon, c.b.w. 2005
Words: c.b.w. 2014
Word Garden
C.B. Wentworth
Just following my muse . . .
C.B. Wentworth 
Love the photo and the poem!! Great work!
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Thanks! 🙂
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Love that garden photo, the path and the door of mystery!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh, and that window cracked opened inviting me to enter.
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I found this little corner around the back of the house. It’s quite miraculous I got a shot without a tourist in sight. For a moment it was just me and Shakespeare’s garden. 🙂
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Ah, is there anything as fragrant as an English rose? Such a lovely moment you’ve captures, in both words and image.
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A beautiful garden deserves beautiful words, I hope I’ve done it justice, but if not the poem in the comment below certainly does! 🙂
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If Shakespeare by the food of love. 😀
Were I one half as great as Cymbeline,
Or had the Rubicon with Caesar crossed,
Then thou wouldst take my hand, and as my Queen
Wouldst find, in love, no gentle labour lost;
Had I, upon this warm, midsummer’s night,
The craft to summon tempests in the dark,
In dreams wouldst ride, and nothing thee afright,
Upon the Nile, in Cleopatra’s barque.
I am not great – a rude mechanical
At best – thy learning is all Greek to me;
I cannot sweetly sing a madrigal,
Nor summon up the art of minstrelsy.
My father’s name – mine own! – I cannot spell;
But shouldst thou love me, then Will all end well!
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Love, love, love, love this! 🙂
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It’s a pile of nonsense. 🙂
If you want a real giggle I could put ‘Two Noble Dudes’ and Rosencrantz’s sonnet to a stapler your way.
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