Black linework laurel wreath with a small tied bow at the base, drawn in a vintage engraved style on cream paper, shown as a tattoo design.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Laurel wreath design

Botanical · Black and grey · Flash

A circular laurel wreath made of pointed leaves and sprigs, with the two branches meeting at a small bow at the bottom. The leaves are drawn with fine hatching and dark outlines in a vintage engraving style. The design sits centred on a plain cream, textured background.

Botanical Laurel Wreath Leaves Bow Foliage

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Win, you will laugh, but the bay tree outside the chapel gate came down in Tuesday's gale, and Mr Pryce has asked me to make something of what's left before the Show on Saturday. So I have been up a ladder with my sewing scissors and a reel of green garden twine, trying to remember how Mother bound the Coronation wreath for the church hall.

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The leaves are stubborn things. They want to lie flat and curl at the edges like old letters, and every sprig I lay on the kitchen table turns over on me before I can tie it. Tom from the garage says the old Romans gave laurel to generals and poets, which is a fine idea for a village where the only general is the Women's Institute and the only poet is Mrs Ferris, who wrote a verse about the pump that the parish council has never forgiven her for. I told him she'd want the bow to be the largest part of it.

On Friday night I bound the last sprig at the bottom and tied it with a scrap of the blue ribbon from your wedding hat, the one you left in my drawer. The two branches met just where I'd hoped, and I sat looking at it under the lamp for an hour, because it looked less like something made than something that had been won.

Saturday's judges gave the first prize for marrows to Ted Hobbs, as they always do. I hung the wreath on the hall door anyway. Mr Pryce says it's the only thing in the room worth looking at, and he's probably right, though I'll not tell him so. Write soon and tell me Bert has stopped chewing the ribbon. Your loving sister, Edie.