Blue Bell Hill.

 

 

Bluebell Hill.

 


I hear bells so softly ringing,
happy voices are sweetly singing.
This all took place on Bluebell Hill,
I must say it gives me a thrill.

Fairies are ringing the bluebells,
the singing is done by the bees.
My nose is tickled by delicious smells,
I am thrilled by all that I see.

Spectators are arriving fast,
birds, squirrels and the shy deer.
I join in the dance at last,
My head is beginning to feel queer.

Bluebell Hill is a magic place,
but for only once in a year,
Dancing is done at a terrific pace,
how glad I am to be here.

If you go to Bluebell Hill,
sit quietly under the trees,
You too might get a thrill,
from the fairies and the bees.

 

 

 

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