Bluebells

Bluebells, how they dance and swing on the meadow
where they bring heav’n to earth! I hear them ring
faintly first, then, as they cling globe to globe
they seem to sing cherished melodies of old.

Oh,
the joy
just to behold
those perfect bells
amongst leaf green,
sky-color-dipped
by hands unseen,
roots gripped firmly
in rich earth: a miracle
a ransom’s
w
o
r
t
h
!

Ute Kaboolian