A Rising Of Bluebells (Hartshill Hayes Country Park, Warwickshire) Poem by Martin Ward

Azure blue of Mary's Gown
laid down upon the landscape.
Brightest hues of rising spring
that only An Artist could bring.

Woodland floors and steep-banked hills
herald their presence by streams and rills.

Canopies of lighter and emerald green
give background to the scene:
no swathes, but oceans of bluebells
which send a majestic mix
of petrichor and scent.

Glory Be, to The Resurrection
and God's Great Plant Collection,
in His Wondrous Garden here,
tended with lightest touch
by countryside rangers
and welcome volunteers.

Woodpeckers can be heard in the woods,
amidst the flowers of good fortune,
truth and everlasting love.

Once the National Flower of England,
they stand proud: natives and from abroad,
they are evangelists for nature's cause
and shout their salute
as the flower of Saint George.

Bees in their early season foraging
seek out hors d'oeuvre of nectar,
as I seek to remain in the present,
in my Heavenly and temporal wanderings.

The scent (unnoticed before) ,
sends me on a high of nature
as I run through wonderment,
like a child of older years and stature.

No melancholic wanderings,
nor time to reminisce,
just a simple reflection
on who made this?