The Bluebells
Oh this dappled shaded woodland,
Brings springtime’s great surprise.
Bird’s morning chorus like a band,
Strikes up from trees on high.
But the daffodils now fading,
Their time now nearly done.
While the bluebell is parading,
In springtime’s morning sun.
A few short weeks we'll see her,
Create magical blue haze.
For nothing can be grander,
Than the bluebells stunning blaze.
With pendulous bell-shaped blossoms,
That dance through out the spring.
Give off the sweetest fragrance,
That’s carried on the wind.
High canopy in woodlands,
Will shut out light I fear.
And the bluebells of old England,
Will return again next year.
© Copyright R .Shaw 2009
Brings springtime’s great surprise.
Bird’s morning chorus like a band,
Strikes up from trees on high.
But the daffodils now fading,
Their time now nearly done.
While the bluebell is parading,
In springtime’s morning sun.
A few short weeks we'll see her,
Create magical blue haze.
For nothing can be grander,
Than the bluebells stunning blaze.
With pendulous bell-shaped blossoms,
That dance through out the spring.
Give off the sweetest fragrance,
That’s carried on the wind.
High canopy in woodlands,
Will shut out light I fear.
And the bluebells of old England,
Will return again next year.
© Copyright R .Shaw 2009
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