Rainy autumn in my neighborhood, No. 4

From nearby fully-opened blossoms, the scent of roses wafted in the wind. But not from these rosebuds. Possible late-bloomers? My guess, they'll become never-bloomers. Hmmm. Can you become a never?
 

The red door and white trim at Albertina Kerr's headquarters becomes the best background possible for this red rose bud.
 

I like the peachy orange and bright yellow rose bud contrasted with the dark green leaves and maroon stems. No color alterations here. These photos are just as they came out of my iPhone.



A fading pink rose bud seems the perfect lead-in for this poem I found on the Internet:

When the Rose is Faded by Walter de la Mare

When the rose is faded,
Memory may still dwell on
Her beauty shadowed,
And the sweet smell gone.

That vanishing loveliness,
That burdening breath,
No bond of life hath then,
Nor grief of death.

'Tis the immortal thought
Whose passion still
Makes the changing
The unchangeable.

Oh, thus thy beauty,
Loveliest on earth to me,
Dark with no sorrow, shines
And burns, with thee.