I stepped into the Bluebell Wood

Tiny Blue, Pink, and White Bells

Protected beneath ancient English Oaks

Branches outstretched

Dressed in green leaves

Stepping where we walked

Laughed, loved, talked

Fragrance envelopes me

Filling my heart space

Shimmering grieving beauty

Enfolded in the healing arms

Gentle, powerful Gaia.


We spy your rotten centre

Poison to the core

Agony to other lives

Death, the spoils of war

A tyrant in full unglory

Hidden in his bunker

A coward scuttling away

Destruction in his fury

What, you want full glory

Lucifer laughs and spits

As you are thrown into the screaming pits.