THREE FLORAL SONNETS

1

BLUEBELL WOOD

I walked a walk in nearby Bluebell wood,
A wild flower garden arched by aspen trees,
When sunshine casts its searchlight beam on these,
We're raised to God, the blessed and the Good.
This is the home of Beauty if it's understood;
Art without Her shall always cease to please
Nor take Soul back to worship on his knees,
As poetry, music, painting truly should.

A painter came to Bluebell Wood to catch
Its wonder on his canvas in due course;
Try as he might his skill could never match
The magic marvel of Mother Nature's force.
He realised there was a limit to his power
To capture the God-like beauty of that sacred hour.

2

DAFFODIL

Easter Lily, named by those whose blooms we love,
Golden yellow, surging wild in wood or field,
They open fresh perfumed petals to yield
To sunlight, shining down from high above.
We wait for the sign of the peaceful dove
To save us from Noah’s flood when soul is healed,
And our covenant with God is truly sealed,
Mad demon ego receives his killing shove.

Emblem of all that's good in Christ's Teaching,
The Easter Lily shines as a floral light,
The Christian Way of Love is ever reaching
The hearts of those who for redemption fight.
This flower of Beauty feeds the yearning soul,
Of those who crave salvation, and be made whole.

3

ROSE GARDEN

In my rose garden warmly rouged by dawn,
There grew white arum lilies shining too,
Pranked with iris, softly clad in blue.
Radiant roses glowed crimson like the morn,
I strolled amongst the fountains. In my view
Such Lady Beauty spoke as Being True.
True in the sense that Art is Beauty born,
To waken souls of men to God divine.

My garden was the threshold to that place,
Well enriched by brilliant bright sunshine.
I felt the gentle hand of blessed grace,
That rose garden was truly Highest Art,
A joy that moved me to the depths of heart.