Bluebells of Scotland



Will you walk in the Bluebells with me?
For times are changing;
And only yesterday I was young
and now,
older still…

meet me in the woods,
where light is shredded by the pines
and ground becomes our sacred bed,
full circle for one born to love out doors.

I will caress you in sun-speckled splendour;
Skin on skin in moss and leaves,
Heart to heart and swapping breath for sighs
alive in the hour;
Storm clouds mask the horizon
but you’ll be there
and the world will be lost.


~ © Alison Stormwolf ~

© stormwolf 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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 <span title="Pro Commenter" style="font-size : small; color: red;">***</span><p>

Images of bluebells grown wild from my childhood. Hi storm. Some steamy- ish elements to this. You haven’t changed! But soft and sweet in tone and infused with longing. Lovely. bel

 <span title="Pro Commenter" style="font-size : small; color: red;">***</span><p>

freya of old m’dear. Remember her? Read your comments about Brexit btw. Had talked to my sis (via phone) at length that day and she voted Leave too. The result has been a bit scary but the markets seem to be settling down now. What terrifies me most about the whole thing is Trump’s reaction which was to crow over a ‘parallel’ between Brexit and his so-called position in his campaign. Pray for America!


I’m not much of a critic when it comes to poetry. This is a lovely read with great imagery.


Nice one storm — I had to think a little about this (it’s an age thing) but i think i know what you mean 😉
I wrote a similar piece on some other site, I may try and find it now…


I have always enjoyed the gentle spiritual element in your work, I wonder how this poem would feel if you began with the second verse and moved the first verse to become the last verse…just a thought…

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