Bluebell Wood

Our secret wood is full and deep
And dappled light is everywhere
The purple blue a complex hue
In morning mist and fragrant air

We've waited long through wintertime
And borne Spring's fickle moody hours
We've pictured early buds awake
From debut stems to fairy flowers

But now we're here at last, alone
Our presence hushed; our awe profound
Tiptoeing through the bluebell haze
Tiptoeing over hallowed ground

The trees are dark; the pathway soft
The flickered light on leaves of green
A wilderness of wonderous blue
A special place; a childhood dream

This beauty borders on divine
This rare delight is all too brief
We drink our fill; we pledge return
Already feeling loss and grief

There is no beauty man designed
To match with nature's subtle hand
We will return again next year
To feel this joy; to love this land

By Declan Whitney