There are creatures in my garden,
Yet rarely are they seen at all.
Hidden In the walls are spiders,
The odd lizard, leather jackets,
Ants in battalions patrol,
As magic cleaning up
Insect and debris machines.
Weeds scatter seeds
For their plants to keep on growing,
For snails to slimily keep on
Their contented munching and gnawing.
Sadly your cherished plants are on their menu,
As they have a hankering for them too.
Tiny frogs seek shelter in the dampened cracks,
Hiding from aerial birds and ground,
Fox, cat and dog attacks.
A mole surfaces to leave
A hill in the middle of the lawn,
Blindly, burying, furiously underneath,
Hunting juicy worms from dusk to dawn,
Leaving the molehills for you to pat back down.
Butterflies and ladybirds
Gavotting about giving
Amazing colourful displays.
The foxes lay against the wall,
Enjoying the warmth of the sun
And dappled shade after a night
On the essential food hunting run.
Squirrels, furiously battling in the trees,
As nuts rain down to be lost in the ground.
To start new tree growth
In this fascinatingly active garden of mine.
Where all I have to do
Is sit quietly and relax,
Whiling away some precious me time.
© 2022 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
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