Sitting In My Garden

The cheerful lemon yellow faces of the marigolds,
The pink flowers of the mallow leaning seductively out from the hedge
and swaying on their stalks,
The twisting column of beanstalks with their high red-lipped flowers
and the sinuous long green beans that hang below,
The tasselled tufts of the honeysuckle blossom,
The little black hoverfly that sits motionless on empty air, and seems so
intent on something in front of it,
The flies that suddenly appear on sunlit surfaces,
The busy buzz of a passing bee on an important errand,
The glory and splendour of the Red Admiral flexing its wings on a spike
of buddleia,
Three downy feathers floating in the dirty water of the bird bath,
The black-capped great tit always on the look-out for its next meal
And quick to seize every opportunity,
The strident cheeps of the self-confident extrovert sparrows,
The starlings busy and bustling, coming and going,
The distant clanks of farm machinery,
The sea breeze that suddenly ruffles my hair,
And the high white clouds overhead in a sky of heavenly blue.

by Pete Crowther

Comments (1)

Apart from the sea breeze, everything else takes me back to my childhood in the countryside. We lived nextdoor to a farm, and I can picture everything you have written so clearly, it was lovely to read it. Sincerely Ernestine