Bluebells sont tres belles

On the 25th April we joined friends for a lovely romp through a Bluebell Wood at Etang de Bois Pouvreau, near to Menigoute, Deux-Sevres which stirred up lots of happy memories from my walks in the Yorkshire Dales.    I found this poem by Felix Dennis (Tales from the Woods 2010) which says it all.    According to Felix’s website, he can count Mick Jagger as a fan too.

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.