I feel like a guest in your wood

Imagining fairies lying drunk on your sweet fragrance

Of the bluebells carpeting the woodland

Listening to Bird song singing for love

Hearing the whisper of the trees

in the warm gentle breeze

And then the barren desert of a beet field

Saharan exhausted landscape

The bluebell carpet even more of a treasure with its scent enriching my senses

And we approach an enchanted Eyrie

A ruined church with so many tales to tell

Of clandestine meetings and carefree schooldays

Wild and untamed

And as we rue the devastation of our modern living

Suffocating simplicity

We are mesmerised by dancing butterflies

Joyously frolicking in our midst