… it may be granted

Wild rose (Rosa canina)

An idealist is one who, on noticing that a rose smells better than a cabbage, concludes that it makes a better soup.”

A Book of Burlesques – H L Menchen

Rosa canina Wild rose

“While summer roses all their glory yield
   To crown the votary of love and joy,
   Misfortune’s victim hails, with many a sigh,
   Thee, scarlet Poppy of the pathless field,
Gaudy, yet wild and lone; no leaf to shield…”
Sonnet: To The Poppy
Anna Seward (1742-1809)
~
Corn Poppy (Papaver rhoeas)
Will the last person to leave please turn off the lights?
I’m not a political animal but I try to vote for what is best for my country, my children and possibly even grandchildren. When the polls closed last night a REMAIN vote was predicted but by 2 a.m. the first LEAVE votes were declared. Is that what broke into my sleep or the unusual brightness in the mid-summer sky? As the hours wore on more and more constituencies voted to leave. My better half always sleeps through momentous occasions  -“Coffee and Brexit hun?” “WHAT?”
So we have all been trying to work out what this means for us because from this side of the border it looks like English Independence. Or maybe London will declare independence and relieve itself of the post-industrial wastelands? But for now we watch and reflect – be careful what you wish for…
Enjoy your €10 Outippa!
Goodnight…
Advertisements