I cannot let this month slip past
like so much dandelion drift
without a nod to bluebell woods
broad oceans under ancient beech
such fragile stemmed parabolas
hung with bells as bait for bees
violet hues in deep blue shade
scentsational is May’s crusade
when cuckoo calls its name we come
well-worn walking sticks in hand
or legless in electric chairs
rebuffed by age on slight inclines
but none must tread on frailty
it’s clear our paths do not converge
we gaze in dazed oblivion
this marvel at meridian
before the seas retreat like grief
and trees make cheerful summer leaf
This year’s pilgrimage was to Ashridge’s bluebell woods
just a few lines in keeping with the simplicity of our Hyacinthoides non-scripta as I’m linking up with others for Poetry Pantry
Scentsational – I love that word creation! Makes me feel like I can smell everything encountered on that virtual walk. I might have to borrow that word as I think it would fit quite a few things cooking on the stove 🙂
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oh yes do – am inhaling that aroma from here!
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Love the flow and the rhymes, affirmative on these two lines:
“violet hues in deep blue shade
scentsational is May’s crusade” Yes!
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thank you – got into a groove with this one Lynn – not very often for me but maybe it mirrors the pace of the walk
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A lovely poem, perfect for this “time,” of year!
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almost over and done with now but memories are made of this
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“violet hues in deep blue shade scentsational is May’s crusade”.. this is soo beautiful! 💜💜
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thank you for your comment Sanaa – p.s. hope your fast is going fast! ❤
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So far so good! Thanks Laura 💜💜
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Indeed… the fragile, passing (and, often, seemingly simple) things should never be ignored or tread upon. We lose so much when we do. And can rarely get it back…
Love the words and the photo.
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Thanks for taking the time here to appreciate this ephemeral occasion
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We went for a long walk in the woods yesterday, and just going through a forest (with or without bluebells) made me want to sing… so sad that there were so few others taking this splendid opportunity
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Our woods can be almost over crowded at bluebell time
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So beautifully described . I love that people go out into the beauty even with canes and wheelchairs. Yay!
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and that there are woodland paths accessible to all
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Once again your poem sings to me….if only one day I could see this in person….
‘broad oceans under ancient beech
such fragile stemmed parabolas
hung with bells as bait for bees
violet hues in deep blue shade’
Love the “scentsational is May’s crusade’
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it seems like one of the wonders of the world – come to England in May!
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Delicate and beautiful!
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thank you – I’ve tried to reflect the essence of the flower
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😊
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You have captured the season beautifully!
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Many thanks Mary – only one other flower personifies it as well and am contemplating a poem to it!
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your words brought me there in my mind… I shall cherish the aroma
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Thank you
(Your comment got stuck in pending because it does not go anywhere)
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Wonderful imagery, love the ‘dandelion drift’.
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Thank you for noticing my favourite line
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Thank you for a wonderful reading visit… I did enjoy this well written piece.
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And I appreciate your appreciation!
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We have lupine and when they bloom, the meadows are gorgeous–your poem brought back all the lovely times I have had hiking in the wildflowers–really lovely piece!!
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Many thanks – would love to linger with the lupine blues
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Beautifully penned.
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Thank you for your appreciation
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I grew up in England and how this reminded me so much of my childhood glorying in the woods in spring with flowers, animals and that beautiful scent of living. A beautiful poem.
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Happy days!
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You’ve done a brilliant job of imbuing this lovely piece with little bits and bobs of rhyme and alliteration – thus, literally, compelling me to read it aloud. It ‘pops’ ,,, it ‘sings’ … it makes me want to go skipping into the nearest woods (if only I, but could ~ sigh~) This is a quite simply, a splendid piece of Poetry.
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When words move we know they have done right – thank you for remarking on the metre and style that all are part of the joy these woodland sights bring. Lovely comment ❤
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I love bluebell woods. We have a few around here; they’re so magical, and you’ve captured that magic in your poem, Laura.I was immediately taken by the opening lines and the ‘dandelion drift’, another favourite thing of mine, and especially love:
‘such fragile stemmed parabolas
hung with bells as bait for bees’
and
‘before the seas retreat like grief
and trees make cheerful summer leaf’.
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Many thanks Kim – That final couplet completes and moves on – just as the bluebell seasons does. Always it seems to move too quickly as the bluebells soon fade. Am enjoying this rather warm weather now though
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What a lovely pilgrimage! It sounds enchanting to one who lives in a country without bluebells.
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you would certainly be more enchanted than usual Rosemary!
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