My Poetry. The busy Garden.

What grows in this garden “O” mine? 
Tulips, Daffodils, sprigs of thyme, 
Hollyhocks, scented stock, colours of green, 
Plants and flowers rarely seen, 
Bee’s and butterflies hovering around, 
Oblivious to humanity and every sound, 
What beasts do pray in this forest of fun? 
When the light goes out and the sun goes down? 
Badgers, foxes, cats and mice,
Wander the vastness, throw the dice
Plundering, raking, searching around,
For scraps of food, nothing found!
In the morning sun flowers come alive,
The bee’s all buzzin, in the active hive,
The garden so sweet in the heat of the day,
With the cloudless Blue sky, and the hottest sunray,
It’s all a part of a wondrous sight,
The gardeners' dream, a Farmers delight.