Inspired by Reenie's grandma poem. Do you like it?

Question

Sorry it goes on a bit, and it hasn't been edited which is why it rambles in and out of rhyme!

Bluebell Wood

When Mum was finished with her chores,

And Dad was no-where to be seen,

And she was, for once, not in a mood

She'd say 'Let's go to Bluebell Wood'.

My heart would swell inside my chest.

So much I thought my breath would fail

- I dared not show just how I felt

For fear of sibling jibes and scorn.

No picnic packed. No 'In the car!'

Robinswood Hill in distance called

we would trudge for miles and miles

until its foothills came in sight.

A glorious vista of bush and gorse

Magnificent oaks, and silver birch.

Deserted save for Mum and Val

And Tony, me and straggler Paul.

We'd climb and fall and giggle, too

Mum, laughing just as much as we,

Then rest like lords on fallen trees

To gaze at distant misty scenes.

If we were lucky we would find

Lush berries ripe and shiney black

Both thirst and hunger to assuage,

Then strength renewed we'd start again

The north-face ascent of Everest.

'I'm tired, are we nearly at the top?'

(I can still hear Paul's plaintive cries)

We too would start to fail and flag

Playfulness moved to sombre mood.

But, then all tiredness disappeared

We really had reached to the peak.

Joyful anticipation quelled our moans

.......We were far too moved to speak.

There it was...... Bluebell Wood,

Where beech trees canopied our heads.

Carpeted with a mosaic of blue and green

Brown and amber and golden threads.

Cooing pigeons called to me,

As I danced like a fairy child

Whirling and leaping in delight

And my responses echoed back to me

Then, and now in precious memories.

Answer 1

And the tears come yet again....

I like the alternate last verse, just my opinion.

If I cry in the Pick & Save (grocery store) I'm blaming you!

Answer 2

This is very nice. I like it. A beautiful place worth all the pain. Innocence rewarded.  

Answer 3

A lovely poetic story of childhood delight and energy. Your unedited work soars above most of that by the rest of us who could not do this without days of editing. (Sometimes editing is not such a good thing). So now, I'm in trouble, right?

Answer 4

quite long. kudos.kudos. you were moved by this. kudos.

Answer 5

Not Tolstoyesque in length. Very nice.

Answer 6

long and boring

Answer 7

Now you trigger memories in me GJ!  I'm off to work and I'll be scribbling at red lights.  This is a wonderful and elegantly written poem>  I can see your beautiful Wood in my mind.

Answer 8

For all of your poetic talents, I am now sure your greatest gift is to see the beauty in life. Thank you for helping us all see it more clearly.

Answer 9

A very rhythmic read and quite descriptive. Well done. As to endings, I would opt for the edited version. Where I grew up our hills were rock piles!

Answer 10

I remember picnics in fern jungles and ant sandwiches under the oak trees as wasps worried and bees bumbled. You brought some happy memories back, Grannyjill. Thank you.

As a footnote, my children were asked recently which holiday they preferred,

the one where we stayed in our caravan in a wooded valley with a stream running around us, no television, no radio reception and no play park....

or the one at the holiday resort with play area, pool, restaurant, games room, disco, slots arcade, fat people with footbal shirts and bacardi breezers at 10am.....

No prizes, they chose nature, bless 'em.

Answer 11

I like the original ending, don't change anything. I love how your poetry mirrors your life, the realism and the real emotions stirred by your words are so poignant. You seem to be evolving with your work and I am really impressed by it. well done