March 1, 2020 by gfreedman2013 And my Welsh friend just sent me this rhyme Share this: Share on X (Opens in new window) X Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Like Loading... Related
Someone posted this one on Facebook just now. Another lovely Spring flower poem. The Bluebell Wood – Felix Dennis We walked within an ancient wood Beside the Heart-of-England way Where oak and beech and hazel stood, Their leaves the pale shades of May. By bole and bough, still black with rain, The sunlight filtered where it would Across a glowing, radiant stain— We stood within a bluebell wood! And stood and stood, both lost for words, As all around the woodland rang And echoed with the cries of birds Who sang and sang and sang and sang… My mind has marked that afternoon To hoard against life’s stone and sling; Should I go late, or I go soon, The bluebells glow— the birds still sing. Reply
Someone posted this one on Facebook just now. Another lovely Spring flower poem.
The Bluebell Wood – Felix Dennis
We walked within an ancient wood
Beside the Heart-of-England way
Where oak and beech and hazel stood,
Their leaves the pale shades of May.
By bole and bough, still black with rain,
The sunlight filtered where it would
Across a glowing, radiant stain—
We stood within a bluebell wood!
And stood and stood, both lost for words,
As all around the woodland rang
And echoed with the cries of birds
Who sang and sang and sang and sang…
My mind has marked that afternoon
To hoard against life’s stone and sling;
Should I go late, or I go soon,
The bluebells glow— the birds still sing.