Lauren Rose
Among the rolling Cornish meadows there lies a most secret, secret place, no roads or tracks meander, no fences fence no man made latched gates. A secret, secret place where safely animals peacefully dwell, and the sun continually shines where everywhere else has rainy spells.
About this mysterious Cornish corner the ancient trees are forever evergreen, every tree adorning a beehive surrounded by nectar collecting honey bees, below the ancient trees there are hawthorn and below the hedges there be a Badgers set with a wise old bimbling Badger sunning himself on top of it, with one eye soundly closed, one eye opened wide he watches the hurrying hare and her leverets playfully bounding by.
Within the meadows Buttercups and grasses there begins a little animal race between Rabbit kittens, Fox cubs and Rupert the beagle with his floppy eared face, spectated by Fox dog and vixen and refereed by Mr and Mrs R abbit the little animals race their hearts out for the sheer joy of it.
In this beautiful animal utopia where pouncing predator and quaking quarry embrace, pixies sit atop gigantic mushroom’s listening to fairies recite old fairy tales.
In the quietest part of the meadow protected by the most ancient of old oak trees, among the grasses and buttercups below resides a Rose of perfect beauty, so unassuming, so beautiful she enjoys life’s sun without a world care, her pure porcelain complexion beguiles all the creatures that starry eyed stare at her, for this rose is a unique, from a rare seed she be born, without side, a pure face, a form without sting or thorn, just simple love and affection for the little animals and meadow they all live, not wanting to take from anyone with only warmth and affection to give.
As the meadow morning mist rises the waking rose receives a rabbit kitten’s birthday kiss, a fox cubs playful hug and Rupert’s sad happy eyed twinkle wink, among the old protective branches of the wisest ancient tree the mistle thrush sings happy birthday accompanied by a pixies harp and the fairies four part harmony ,the bumble bees buzz around leaving meadow flower fragrancies in the breeze the hare leaps about and bounds her leverets dance to the tune sung above her among the branches and green oak leaves. Bimbling along arrives the wise old badger a spokesman for animals young and old and whispers softly to the rose this little animal ode. For thou art beauty to all of us and we animals all love you as our friend though you have never spoke of your name we have always known you as lovely Lauren. The last trickle of morning dew now tumbled down the little roses petal face it seemed to represent a tear of happiness that she lived in such a wonderful Cornish place, at that very same special moment the sun did duly rise and the animals all cheered to finish lovely Laurens birthday surprise, the little rose delicately blossomed her petals sparkled from the warming rays of the sun and looking across her secret secret meadow she wished every day was a day she was twenty one.
Flickityflinn xx
