The Garden of Life
The most beautiful
thing, sing the
birds
Gorgeous as the
sound. around the
crashing of waves
That morning tweet,
sweet as apple
crumble
The wren , the
robin, bobbin his
head, on a quest for
worm juicy
The squirrel racing
the fence, hence
some other beat him
to the nuts
Two at a time he
takes, stakes his
claim twofold
Off across the
grass, class act as
he scales that tall
garden gate with
ease
He will be back,
sack of monkey nuts,
he knows I have
The hedgehog
shuffling through
the vinca major,
wager he too, is
after a worm or two
Fantastic vision for
one so short of
sight, night time
darkness is when he
is king
He is being watched
by the cat, that is
normal but the cat
keeps his distance
Hedgehog is a
formidable foe to
puss, thus, the wide
berth of respect
The ants are
marching to an fro
along the same
trail, hail the
source of food
discovered
Spilt sugar and
crumbs of cake, take
it slowly bit by bit
until it is gone
A wonderful society
of harmony and one,
gone in four weeks,
a short life span
All work and no fun,
sun is coming up,
time to go
underground
I return to my seat
of garden
observation, nation
of insects, ants,
wasps and so
All getting on with
the business of do,
who would have
thought
Its a small world
true, through the
back door
The most beautiful
thing, sing the
birds
Copyright © John Scott | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment