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As I sit alone, daydreaming,

Looking out at the garden,

The secret lives of the wildlife unfold,

All intent on survival in their own unique way.

The little woodmouse gathering bread for her pantry,

Darting around, hiding in the wall and under the bushes.

The rabbits munching the grass, their babies playing, hopping and jumping, and chasing each other.

All enjoying the apples that have fallen from the tree.

Squirrel, on its daily visit to eat and hide the nuts we provide.

The birds, there are so many, have a refreshing bath, and enjoy a meal, each to their own taste.

Weasle, on its hunt, darts in and out the fence, almost playfully.

A peaceful place for all to come.

Sometimes, Stoat appears on his own. His journey passes through the garden. Where he is going we will never know.

The lawn with it’s buttercups, daisy’s and clover.

The hedge’s so green and full of leaves.

The trees bear their fruit, not ripe as yet.

The flowers so colourful and varied.

The perfume from the honeysuckle so sweet.

Hidden nests full of chicks, wait patiently for their feed.

Parent’s dart in and out constantly, from dawn to dusk.

The bumblebee’s, ladybird’s and butterfly’s make a beautiful display.

As the clouds go scurrying by, the sun slowly sinks for another day.

Soon it will be dusk and the night-life will stir.

All the daytime creatures tucked up for the night.

As the light fades, out there hedgehogs are awakening, fox is on the prowl, badgers come out to play.

Darkness descends and I have to imagine what goes on, hoping they all survive another night.

An owl hoot’s and the bat’s fly.

Our secret garden is there for us to see, the magic around, as life goes on.

Try not to miss the little things in life, that most of us do not even see.

But we have in our Secret Garden, a little bit of heaven on earth.

Copyright  Margaret Wait