At the bottom of the garden
In the middle of Autumn.
The singer singing loud as he could
As he strummed a chord or two
On an old ukelele.
Bites of melody
Taken out of the food of music.
The once quiet neighbourhood exploded.
Dogs barking, windows opening,
Loud voices demanding to know
What was going on.
No answer there.
For no-one knew what had caused
This wayward racket.
Although the sheep in the paddock
Were so charmed,
They pushed and shoved
Against the old broken down fence
Until they were in the garden.
Eating roses, dandelions, sweet daisies and clover.
While the swifts and the swallows
Soared so high, they were splashed with stars.
Darting by the trees,
Flaring around the eaves,
The music brought memories of their homeland,
Filling their beautiful bodies
With sunshine and shadow.
Tiny dark rockets bringing hope and inspiration,
And us trying to keep them close for a little while longer.
©2022 Gwen Grant
4 thoughts on “AUTUMN PARTY”
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So glad you liked the poem. I loved your Post on gender and have sent a note of it to my younger friends including great grandchildren.
What a vivid story you tell!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hope you enjoyed it! The night comes in earlier since the clocks went back and it’s much
colder so that was in the way of a last summery/autumn shout.