Where the Garden Begins

I had another go at the “Where the sidewalk ends” interpretation …

fox snoozing in the garden

There is a place where the sidewalk ends,
the meadow spreads, and garden begins.
And there the dunnock bops her head,
And there the rhubarb bursts his bed,
And there the fox sniffs around the shed,
to hunt a mouse or two.

Let us leave this place where the cars honk loudly,
And the sea of people shove us stoutly.
Let’s rest where the birch stands proudly,
Where we dance and sing and snooze,
Walk slow, run fast, jump high without shoes,
In that place where the sidewalk ends.

We will snooze in the sun with Mr Fox,
And cuddle neighbour’s cat who wears white socks.
And read a book, and give you a hug,
And be as happy as a bug in a rug.

Hedgehog

Little gritters
trample with their furry feet
through the summer garden
late one eve

sniffling out snails, and slugs, and bugs
my little hedgehog friend has evening snacks

In my garden

 

I found a mind running wild.
I fed it chocolate and ideas,
and send it on its way.

I found a heart running wild.
I fed it strawberries and love,
and send it on its way.

I found a soul running wild,
I fed it light and rain, fire, earth, and wind,
and send it on its way.

You wonder why?

Because that’s what my garden grows.
My garden grows, earth, light, rain and wind,
and trees full of chocolate and strawberries.