The Bumble Bee and the Almond Blossom!
Perfectly delivered – we take centre stage – stepping forth into the light,
Where the firm of footing leads us on – where the Sun is shining bright,
When a birthday becomes a day of birth – the trees they form a line,
With a planting comes a connection with the earth – a hedgerow to define!
A Bumble Bee busies in the pink Almond Blossom – she’s early to be out of her bed,
With a riot of colour and a multitude of flowers – she takes the chance and dips her head,
A Pheasant calls to clear his landing strip – from the north he glides in to a slow,
With a ruffle of comfort he scans his view – and blends in with the flow!
Gathered from the corner of the safety net – The White Birch they bare their roots,
Separated out from their wintered bundling – with their bristling of shoots,
With a helping hand – they take their pride of place – with each to know their time,
And so one by one – they find their home to settle – as I rattle off my rhyme!
There’s a highlight of new Discovery – and the young Cherry stands new ground,
Along the walk of the outer pathway – through the orchard in the round,
The wind it builds and shares its purpose – with a growing force of speed,
Threatening to blow your world off its feet – with an elemental need!
With a White Birch located – each end of the Holly bed – breakfast is the call,
Fighting the bluster and all it can muster – we find a shelter and withdraw,
With bellies full – we dine on inspiration – with the meeting of our minds,
Synchronising the pages – of the reaching of ages – where the blue-print slowly grows!
Standing to attention are the Crab Apple Trees – after a circle of the Sun,
Where protection has helped with the forming of roots – the bonding has begun,
All present and correct in their matching pots – grown on throughout the year,
Each one unique in their twist and turns – with a nod to why we’re here!
Forming an entrance through the flow of the west – and following the way,
To the inner gateway that opens within – or at least it will one day,
With the reassurance of their guardian shields – we have faith in season’s oath,
As time goes by we will tend and keep – and share within their growth!
The Pheasant bugles and floats from west to east – nearing the ending of our day,
As the clouds grow black – the flying Crows they struggle – direction lost its way!
As we come to leave – the bitter wind it bites – and frozen is the chill,
We are beaten hard by the raging hailstorm – with a burst of sheer will!