Bluebell Magic.
A sea of blue beneath the trees,
a magic silence in the breeze.
Enchantment lingers in this place,
I'm privileged to show my face.
Each Springtime brings this miracle -
Nature's circle ever turning.
Hearts of city-dwellers surely
for this precious sight are yearning.
Most of the bluebells in the world,
here in English woodland thrive.
Most magnificent sight you'll ever see,
makes one happy to just be alive!
It's a real great shame that so many,
never see this miracle of blue.
City-slickers and dwellers in tenement blocks,
I wish you could all see it too.
We should all creep back here at midnight,
when the moon casts its silvery spell.
To see the bluebells in silver light bathed,
(and we may hear them ringing as well.)
If we're lucky we may see the fairies,
(who simply adore bluebells too.)
They dance and sing 'midst the flowers,
then sit down at a "toadstool-for-two."
Then ladybird waiters come bearing,
acorn-cups filled with hyacinth wine.
Saffron-bread and rich bluebell honey,
on these the fairies will dine.
It's a shame to leave this Fairyland dream,
and forsake such a magic blue sight.
But I feel we intrude on their frolic,
take my leave, and bid them goodnight.
Poetry by normalil
Read 1139 times
Written on 2009-04-21 at 16:54
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ngaio Beck |
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penfold18 |
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grizzedram |
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Elle |
