Bonnyrigg Rose

Bonnyrigg Rose, a blush of Scottish dusk,
Petals unfurl like whispered lullabies,
Crimson threads stitch the heather‑kissed hills,
Where thistles sigh and burnet breezes sigh.

In garden nooks where old stone walls recall
The laughter of bairns and the piper’s call,
Your scent drifts on the River Esk’s soft sigh—
A fragrant homage to the land’s gentle eye.

O Bonnyrigg Rose, you crown the glen with grace,
A living sonnet in the Highlands’ embrace.