A chilling breeze floats on the air,
although the sun sends down its glare
petals dropp from a pale pink rose...
away the sculptor's model goes.
How soon a glorious flower can fall
and leave so bare that old stone wall
but in the spring, petals will renew
blooming afresh with silken hue.
And a bed of roses, trim and sweet
will make the sculptor's life complete.

Joyce Hemsley

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/artistic-garden/