The Enchanting Bluebell

THIS POEM IS NOT PRESENTED AS I INTENDED (ie. DOUBLE SPACED).

THIS HAS BEEN DONE BY PERSONS BEYOND MY CONTROL

THUS DIMINISHING THE READING EXPERIENCE.

🙈

Enchanting bluebells growing in the green wood.

Blooming in the dawn of light,

Sprightly at the close of night;

A reflection of all that is well and good.

The tinted hues drizzle all around,

Reticent, poignant, brightly crowned,

Sheltered by the treetops' hood.

Close by the place, where now they grow,

Here is where the fairies hide;

Existing, dwelling there beside

The sparkling, dewy, dazzling show,

As the bells ring out far and near,

To summon them when ere they hear,

And hence to a meeting place they go.

Yet if we should incidentally stray

Within a bluebells' circled wall,

And hear their peel begin to call,

We encounter the wrath of goblin gainsay,

Then such a sombre, austere thing,

Our sudden end would surely bring,

And the hex may take our days away.

Though beware the child on the woodland floor

In blue hued ways close by.

The toxic plant may try,

To steal their souls as in impish lore.

The fairies know a pixie trick,

If this flower our children pick,

They will then be gone for evermore.

But this bloom is Saint George's ward;

If a garland wreath you make,

With each flower that you take,

He defends your honour with his sword.

And with this necklace pendant spell,

In all the solemn things you tell,

The forthright truth you must accord.

And now the petals disappear ~ every one;

We've reached mid~June,

And very soon,

Sepals perish and there remain none;

Yet now at last,

The danger's past,

And the enchanting, glowing bluebell is gone.

                    ASJ