Casual is the midday smile of sunburst – where the Blackberries draw a crowd,
High on the thermals there’s a cry of welcome – a soaring Buzzard loud and proud!
There’s a sigh of contentment that is audible – stepping out of sight and out of mind,
In a hop and a skip we arrive at the gate – within a peace that’s there to find!
Warm is the wonder to the guiding of man – as we give so we receive,
A flurry of Dragonflies small and brown – disperse like a veil – in a motion to believe!
There’s a question and answer to the flight of the Buzzards – with a circle overhead,
The highs and lows of a call for a speech – with the stringing of a thread!
Hurried is a voice in the depth of the trees – short and to the point,
Back and forth – In the scene of the green – with the casing of the joint!
Nervous is the entrance of the Green Woodpecker – deliberating on the roundhouse post,
Affording of a view of its shape and form – with a pause to greet its host!
On the go a big green Dragonfly – tailed electric blue – slow and subtle on the air,
The songbirds they beckon with a sounding of whistles – to let you know they’re there!
The Crows they assemble in a ball of frenzy – to the South they head our way,
Moving to the North in their rowdy huddle – interaction makes its play!
Ageing Thistles – cast off their fairy seeds – and they sail upon the breeze,
Using the tide for a drop of an anchor – between the frameworks of the trees!
Golden brown is the showcase and the clusters of Fungi – to the North they concentrate,
Tucked under the skirting of the Silver Birch – with patience so they wait!
The carpeted green of the outer path – calls the patrons for a round,
Admiration beams and shares the view – retracing seasoned footsteps upon the ground!
The Snowberry bushes they bustle with berries – all small and round and white,
Highlighting the hedgerow of the Moon Garden – with its autumn of delight!
We gather together as preparation is done – when melody sings her song,
Blazing a trail with the turn of the wheel – and the sounding of the gong!
Winding the pathway between Tree and Stone – tucked in the pocket of peace,
A private moment in a time of no time – calmly dissolving with release!
House Martin’s gather a swirl in their multitude – with their numbers on the rise,
We honour the gathering of the hedgerow harvest – and the balance of the skies!
We share of the season with the gift of the apple – watch the Martins rise and fall,
A bubble of reflection where we nourish our roots – with a feast for one and all!
A Pheasant overshoots his chosen runway – across the field off to the West,
Like cries of panic there’s an announcement to hear – as he puts his landing to the test!
All becomes quiet and he regains his dignity – with our final toast of mead,
We make our way past the tainted fruit tree leaves – where the fruiting has most need!
Past the bursting health of the Dogwood Berries – to watch the antics of the Crows,
The House Martins fade and blend into dusk – and slow the sunset goes!
A Bat weaves its wander to a Tawny Owl chorus – and the Lanterns truly glow,
Lit by the sheen of a half-moon rising – sharing the shadow with two small Deer as we go!