And no, I don't know which poet, or why her or his wife is equally anonymous; nor can I find out, it would seem - one of those secrets that the David Austin website keeps to itself. Only I did learn that she's exceptionally fragrant, which makes me very sorry I didn't stop and sniff her. Another day; another rose photo - you might well, and correctly, surmise that I was at home almost all day - apart from a walk after dinner - because I was waiting for the plumber. Now, with all fingers crossed, our pipes will stop wailing like a banshee.
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