Staring through the window, at the garden bathed in dew,

The buds of the crocuses soon to break through.

The robin on the lawn is pecking; at the seed he's unaware,

Of the cat that's been stalking him, under the garden chair.

The sun is on the camellias,

Their flowers are in full flight,

Magnolias are in the foreground, Their flowers are creamy white

The bedding plants in the greenhouse,

Are all snug and warm,

Waiting for the warmer weather,

To be planted near the lawn.

A cuckoo on the wing, is singing her familiar song,

Cuckoo, cuckoo, telling us that spring won't be long.

Mr Frog is croaking, as there's is no time to wait.

Wake up Mrs Frog; it will soon be time to mate.

The blackbirds are busy, trying to build their nest,

Working sixteen hours solid, there is no time for rest.

A squirrel sits upon the fence, scratching and thinking where?

He buried those acorns, at the back end of last year.

A magpie flies to the bird bath, on it he likes to settle,

His feathers he starts to preen, he does look in fine fettle.

The barking of our dog Tigger, he's family number four,

He's put paid to that pesky cat, the cat that lives next door.

A garden of ceaseless wonders, Where creatures work and play,

And go about their business, each and every day.

This place of colours and paradise, for birds upon the wing,

A garden planted with happiness,

On the first day of spring.

RON BOOTH Ravenshead