I can travel as far
As the painting lets me;
The Beechwood stretches
As far as the eye can see
Far back into the secret wall
Then out into the room
Flooding it with cool fragrant light;
And I cannot believe how much she looks like you.

There amongst the Silver Birch
The most lavish carpet of all,
Your beloved bluebells
Offering up the gentlest of hues.
She bends easily in her long skirt
Cradling fallen branches in both arms.

Then the wood falls silent
Surely a blackbird or thrush would be singing?
Is it morning, is the firewood for this evening,
Is there a church nearby with bells ringing out?
So many things to ask her, and still
I cannot believe how much she looks like you.