Celebrating St George’s Day with Garden Poems about Bluebells

Today, April 23, is St George’s Day - the feast day of the patron saint of England, St. George.

 

Known as the dragon slayer, St. George was partial to the color blue, and he is remembered with the English bluebell (Hyacinthoides non-scripta) - a flower that blooms around this time each year.

 

Cicely Mary Barker created a Blue Bell Fairy poem and a beautiful watercolor. The first verse goes like this:

My hundred thousand bells of blue,

The splendor of the Spring,

They carpet all the woods anew

With royalty of sapphire hue;

The Primrose is the Queen, ’tis true.

But surely I am King!

 

And in her book, The Brief Life of Flowers, Fiona Stafford writes,

Bluebells are reminders of the very origins of 'spring,' the great gush of life.

 

English bluebells are more straightforward and less floriferous than the invasive Spanish variety.

Anne Brontë recognized the simplicity of the bluebell in her poem about the blossom. She wrote,

But when I looked upon the bank

My wandering glances fell

Upon a little trembling flower,

A single sweet bluebell.

 

Today, a modern bluebell poem from Stella Williams addresses the damage humans can do to natural areas - like the woodlands where bluebells like to grow. In 2018, The Woodland Trust featured verses in the poem along woodland paths to remind people that traipsing through nature areas can cause long-term damage.

Here’s The Bluebell Blues by Stella Williams, a content manager at The Woodlands Trust.

Help us beat the bluebell blues,

a problem caused by paws and shoes.

Keep to the path, enjoy the view, and let the new green leaves push through.

 

As leaves unfurl and buds hang free,

they hint at beauty we’ll soon see;

but if dogs or walkers go off track,

we may never get that beauty back.

 

Now, the flowery bells unfold, and violet carpets are unrolled

to delight you and all who follow.

Let’s ensure they’re here tomorrow.

 

When the bluebells fade and die

beneath the soil, their bulbs still lie.

If damaged, they could disappear;

protect them, and they’ll grow next year.