THE SUMMER HOUSE

Relaxing in the summer house; it is my favourite spot. Tucked in a sheltered corner, I visit it a lot. I sit beneath its shady roof with doors and windows wide, And looking up the stretch of lawn I watch the life outside. The view is framed with deep pink spires of lupins round the veranda, Whilst up around the open doors roses twine and clamber. I listen to the hum of bees around my floral bower, And watch them visit each plant in turn, exploring every flower. In the little waterfall the blackbirds preen and splash. In the cool depths of the pool the coloured goldfish flash. Across the lawn I see more flowers of white and lemon hue And fuchsia dripping blood-red drops above the barbecue. Beneath the willow at the end a white stone figure stands. She shyly looks towards the ground, a wine jug in her hands. The air is crossed by birds in flight, and swallows sweeping high. The trees are full of birds in song and twittering from the sky. I rest here watching quietly — there’s such a lot to see: The wildlife in the garden and their activity. C. Lilley, Stalham, Norfolk.