Bluebells

The daffodils are weary now,
Their bells no longer ring.
Yellow bonnets packed away,
Awaiting next year’s Spring.

Now under bush and under leaf,
Some nascent shoots appear.
Their folded blooms show hints of blue,
Surmounting each short dark green spear.

A little sun, a little rain,
A little time must pass as well.
Their blossoms swell and then unfold,
Displaying fresh, a bright bluebell.