I’m waiting for the bluebells
They’re not that far away
As I go down in my garden
To check for their display
Alas I think I am early
To see those little bells
But I know where in my garden
Those little flowers dwell
They’re just beneath the heather
That keeps the frost at bay
And guards them like a brother
While they’re in full array
The blueness of each petal
Reminds me of the sky
The one that comes in summer
And clothes me as I lie
I know I cannot rush them
They’ll come in their own time
Those pretty little bluebells
That’s made to God’s design
Spring will not come any quicker no matter how much I hope.
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