The wind is whispering come, follow me.I know an enchanted place kept under lock and key.
Behind the tangled nightshade a brass keyhole gleams. What lies behind Grandé Fleur garden of dreams.Flowers rolled out like carpets, butterflies bouncing on the breeze.Filled with wide-eyed wonderShe falls to her knees.Pillows made of peonies pocketfuls of dawn’s sunshine. Petals drip from roses to the rhythm of the vines.Robin puffs his crimson chest his song clear and shrill. This is the magic it’s in you too. Believe if you will.
Muse: Marianne Roussety
Photographer: Lynden Foss
Location: Villa Rustica