Poem: Clearing for Bluebells

Copyright 2012 by DM Denton

I am long gone
from that small coppice
where one man’s purpose
was all I had.

His saw, his scythe
cut through the clutter
to shed some light where
the ground was soft.

Fires were set
to burn away brash
and warm us at last
on such cold days.

We’d stop for lunch
and speak of nothing
except the birdsong
leaving winter.

He loved my hair
and constant silence
and woman’s promise
to stay for hope.

My hands, my heart
wanted to be his
working with nature’s
way of growing.

Clearing the way
for sunshine and rain
growing love not blame
from what was past.

Bluebells, bluebells
in sight and fragrance
I have come back since
just as he thought

I would.

Without darkness, Nothing comes to birth, As without light, Nothing flowers. May Sarton (American poet, novelist, and memoirist, 1912 – 1995)

I must acknowledge Laurel’s Reflections  as the inspiration for this painting and poem, specifically her post of  May 15, 2012, Bluebells and Other Delights where she shared some photographs taken on a family day out to Emmett’s Garden in Kent, UK. This post is dedicated to Laurel with wishes for her continued moving out of a tragic darkness into a flowering life.

©Artwork and writing, unless otherwise indicated, are the property of Diane M Denton. Please request permission to reproduce or post elsewhere with a link back to bardessdmdenton. Thank you.

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35 thoughts on “Poem: Clearing for Bluebells

  1. Diane, this is so beautiful and deeply touching!! I could quote back so very many lines that made my heart smile… such knowing. It’s truly a gift. Thank you for this!! ((Hugs!!)) Angela

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    • Thank you, Angela! I been working a while on this…very personal…but flowers always have a way of helping to find forgiveness, healing and new life! Blessings to you and hope all is well. Love and hugs, Diane

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  2. I still miss May Sarton! She was a shining lamp to my inner poet as I was raising my children! Thank you so much for introducing us to Laurel. Wonderful to think of her enjoying bluebells on that outing, even though she is still working her way out of darkness. Your artwork and your poem do a very fine job of honoring what Laurel has experienced. Such a wonderful talent for empathy and intuition shown here!

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    • Hi Rose! Had to rescue your comment out of spam! I have to dash from work now, but I am so glad you enjoyed and will reply more tomorrow! I just wanted to approve so you wouldn’t wonder where your comment had gone. I love that “she was a shining lamp to my inner poet”! Diane XO

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  3. Hi Diane–this is truly exquisite, beyond my ability to describe. As the others have said, it’s beautiful and intensely moving. You’ve written it in such a way that the intimacy is very present, as though I should look away, respectfully. So lovely–as are the changes to your blog!! Wishing you all good things, God’s blessings–love, Caddo

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    • Hi Caddo-what a lovely comment. It is not easy for me to reveal this kind of intimacy in my writing…at least not in the first person. But it felt good to do so and your response makes me very glad I did. I thought it was time to lighten up, and when I found this theme for my blog it seemed right. It’s called Ocadia, which is a genus of turtle…appropriate…I have my shell that goes with me everywhere…and everything comes slow for me…waiting, waiting, patience, patience…hope what ‘they’ say is true…’slow and steady…’ Blessings and love! Diane

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    • Thank you, Coco! I so appreciate your comment…and that is one of my favorite lines too…it came very fast…I’m so glad you could relate. It makes me realize how much stronger I am now I’m not reliant on a man to be my purpose. But the memories of ‘then’ can be treasured for their poignancy all the same…

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  4. Oh Diane, you have moved me to tears. This is so beautiful, so touching, and so wonderful. I am quite at a loss for words, but wish to express my deep gratitude and admiration. You are a most wonderous spirit, and I feel so blessed to have ‘met’ you x (p.s. I have been away without internet access over the anniversary of my mother’s death, and my 30th birthday, two big events in this past week that I will perhaps try blog about soon…)

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    • Dear Laurel, I feel very humbled by your words, and very moved also. I am so glad that you did like the post…it felt appropriate to write from a very personal place of loss and hope as you so often do. The blessing is as much mine to have made your friendship! Thank you, not only for inspiring this poem and painting, but also for sharing so honestly throughout the last year, expanding my heart and compassion and expression as an artist and human being.

      I have been thinking of you, knowing of course of the anniversary…but didn’t know it was also your 30th birthday for which I belatedly wish you the happiness and fulfillment of all you love and aspire to! Diane XO

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  5. Bardess,

    It was the bluebells that caught my eye.
    So real I bent to better gather in their soft scent
    and that was when I saw the poem. Both are top
    shelf. What a grand accompaniment for morning
    coffee. Thank you for the pleasure!

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    • I’m so glad the painting evoked the inviting scent and sight of the real thing! And that my post helped get you off to a good start this morning. Thank YOU so much for the pleasure of your company…and your kind comment!

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  6. What I take from this, Diane, is that we always move on in life. Sometimes that moving on leaves things and moments and times of importance behind. But, of course, the bluebell as a reminder is a wonderful thought. The bluebells come every year, one year engendering another year of blooms, moving as the wind’s will moves, but they can still seem to stay still, gracing a single place over and over again. We cannot replace the moments that are gone or the experiences that are gone, but we can remember them by looking at the bloom of bluebells, and in that moment of looking we can relive, if for only a moment, what was worth remembering of people and events associated with place, the goodness of the earth. A wonderful poem and drawing.

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    • Hi Thomas! And thank you. Your interpretation of the poem is excellent. I can’t actually physically go to the place where those bluebells still bloom year after year…but in a way I can. When I saw Laurel’s bluebell photographs I immediately wanted to remember and poeticize the time my then husband and I made way for the light.

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