I have always wanted a rose bower.
The very word bower sounds secret and enclosing.
I have trained roses up wrought iron arches with varying degrees of success, but our wild dog rose has produced the longest, most exuberant arms of flowers to wrap around the old wheel barrow and make marvellous the compost corner.
Its simple pink blossoms are transient, perfumed and perfect. No dog ever wagged so wonderfully!