Alive is Life!
The heavy petting pair of Wood Pigeons – snuggle within the boughs of a tree,
While the crops grow taller in the spreading fields – now a foot high next to me,
The Hawthorn hedgerows that line my pathway – where the buds have turned to leaves,
As the little white heads of the blossom flowers begin the stranding of their weaves!
As I pass over the stream a Partridge watches – and I make my way toward the rise,
The song and dance of the birds in the hedgerow – busy their day before my eyes,
As I enter the gateway that opens up the Grove – I feel the calm within its peace,
The White Birch planted so recently – display their fine new leaves in birth’s release!
The Dogwoods tall with a spray of colour – where winter’s bare stalks once had been,
The fruit trees adorned with leaf and bud – where blossom blooms against the green,
Primroses – Daffodils and Cow Slips show their faces – as they sway the gentle breeze,
The grass it stretches at its growing point and the wheat it shoots with ease!
Disturbed a solo Rabbit retires to the east – and the shelter of the hedge and ditch,
A Partridge runs nervously toward the north-east – across the fields it makes its switch,
Bristling with birdsong alive at our borders – rustling with the thrill of the chase,
Through the Willows and Hawthorn the Elder and Ivy – gathered around the place!
Entering the shed there’s a Blackbird commotion – the shouting of its shrill,
Circling its shape and then out of the door – with a shattering of the still,
Fresh in the corner at the end of a shelf – perfection built up in a nest,
Having found its way in and under the door – four eggs they come to rest!
As we plant up the Hawthorn along the new hedgerow – marked out here and there,
In the north we witness three Buzzards are circling – with a calling on the air,
A Pheasant shudders with a grand announcement – from the hedge-line on the hill,
Where it rises up behind the ditch in the east – as the Sun it bursts its will!
Pausing for thought and the bite of a sandwich – there’s entertainment for a show,
There are Great Tits and Blue Tits with Willow Warblers and others I do not know,
They weave their way through the branches of the Silver Birch – playing as they go,
At least two to a tree as they stand in their circle – where year upon year they grow!
A Foxglove planted along the orchard pathway – where it can stand and firm its roots,
A growing collective for a mass of flower-heads – to be dressed in matching suits,
Surrounded and tidied with a sprinkling of Mole hills – tucked into its bed,
Watered in gently with the drink of life – where the rose flows overhead!
With a change of plan for the Butterfly garden – there are plants that need to move,
There’s a Hypericum mound that shapes in the round – with the finding of its groove,
Re-planted with a feed to the left of the South – where the triangle shows the way,
With time to settle before it flowers Sun yellow – when it blooms and has its day!
Last but not least we move the twisted Hazel – re-located behind the Lughnasadh stone,
With the fine precision of a ceremonial placement – a tree to stand alone,
Between the roundhouse footing and the circle ditch – along the south western line,
Highlighting the left hand corner of the gallery – before the time to leave is mine!