The Bluebell Wood Poem by Phil Soar
The Bluebell Wood
Where once there were bluebells
Now nothing but ferns
Until it is spring again
And the bluebells return
Brambles and nettles
Now adorn the floor
Campions and Anemones
I've not seen before
And the sound of bird chatter
A welcome embrace
It really don't matter
That cobwebs brush my face
Where once there were bluebells
In this beautiful wood
I will sit and be still
As I know that I should
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/28/2024 2:33:21 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Sometimes have to wait long to see beautiful things and when it happens you are the happiest Good one