Bluebells of Taurus
bloom
when daffodils are dead
giving life to new bulbs
in hiding
perhaps to show on a different date
And all shades of green grass
greet the Christmas tree
waiting for its own
sparkling season
Buttery yellow cups
claiming heights
as meadow spread
when cow parsley
brushes the eyelashes
of Taurus
And up the hill
the dreamy pink rhododendrons
– while close to letting go
of the huge tree –
bow to the sound of the bells
so blue
overturning
the meadow
into an all purple dance show
