Bluebell Wood Shropshire
Photograph by Rob Lodge photography- used with permission.
Slip between the trees
Step lightly as you go
Through the shafts of light
Enchantment’s here you know.
Cathedrals aren’t just of stone
Nature forms them too
In a peaceful woodlands
Carpeted in green and blue.
Fairy bells we called them
In childhood long ago
Stepping into the bluebell wood
Keeping our voices low.
A place of enchantment,
Where dreams might come true
Here fairies surely gathered,
They knew its magic too
That magic’s never faded
Though now I’m far from home
Imagination calls to mind
The bluebell woods of home.
Sonia Bellhouse- Author. 
Lovely wistful poem, captures the sense of childhood magic
which never leaves us, thank goodness.
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Thank you I don’t pretend to be a poet and oyur words mean a lot
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