I was the chubby grey cat
curled up tight,
dozing in warm sunshine
watching a garden symphony unfold.
I was the scarlet rose hips
high above the trellis
eying the changing colours of day,
listening to the whispers of trees
on the secrets of rose buds
or the bitter woes of sobbing poppies,
gossiping with hot pink hibiscus
on the dark underworld of leaves.
I was a striped bumble bee
whizzing from lilac to lavender,
or a fluttering butterfly
sipping on sweet nectar,
or a fat spider
weaving silken webs,
spinning trapped lives to death.
How nice it is
looking out on a barren garden
on a slate Winter’s day.