David Wood Poems
Bluebells carpet the woodland floor
Packed so tightly that insects tip-toe
Softly and quietly between them.
Their beauty unlocks a woodland door
With such colour of delicate blue,
And a fragrance that is heaven sent.
They droop their heads in the spring rain,
With their beauty making all things new.
Their magic weaves a pleasant spell
A sea of blue that meanders in the breeze
And floats delicately over the forest floor,
Their fragrance creates a delicate smell.
Nature now has all its beauty brought
To the fore before summer casts its ...
In The Dead Of Winter
White feathery frosts of ice on grass
And trees. Heavy frigid breaths do pass,
With blustery icy cold wind on your face.
Damp paths and wet cold roads trace
A pattern and icicles hang from gutters.
Mist swirls around wispy folds unwinds
And forms cold clumps of foggy binds
Like some super glue in low lying lands,