Thursday, 28 April 2011

Through The Bluebell Wood.

I stroll into a twilight shade
With green and amber hung around,
Where dapple-dancing branches rain
Sun-shadows on the ground.

Leaf-banners flutter from each tree
Whose branches like carved ivory
Surround the bluebell way.
Stray half-lights flow from brown to gold,
Weaving, through an April fold
Of colour, the bright tapestry of day.

And there is music in the stream,
And shifting lights of water flow,
And silent water-boatmen row
While dragon-flies in vivid blue
Dart like lightning in a dream.
Sun has alchemised the scene,
And with rich magic made me feel
It is unreal yet more than real.
The soft breeze barely seems to blow,
And all the wheels of time run slow…

Geoffrey - Hoffman

2 comments:

  1. A wondrous poem.....the last verse is so beautiful.....thanks for sharing Pam.

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  2. My pleasure Ruth. The poem seemed very apt after my walk in Broadmoor Wood.

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