Ours was a warm, still spring night with ‘no breezes from heaven blown.’ We stood instead in the dark, amongst the roses and their perfumed air, looking up into the olive grove with its shaggy grass and wild flowers hidden in the dark.
Somewhat tongue in cheek, quirky and whimsical musings
Ours was a warm, still spring night with ‘no breezes from heaven blown.’ We stood instead in the dark, amongst the roses and their perfumed air, looking up into the olive grove with its shaggy grass and wild flowers hidden in the dark.