What’s that I hear
Loudly scolding “intruder intruder”
Leaping now up grand oak tree
Peering out from high above
An interruption of day’s work
Those wily robbers of bird feeders
And gatherers of nature’s bounty
Ready against winter’s chill
With flip of bushy tail
Now return to busy preparation
Planting storing, hop and poke
Now where did I leave that
Home sweet home in arching bowers
A comfy den or nest just right
To snugly curl within
Awaiting spring’s first touch
Cool touch of dew on morning’s grass
Soft breeze stirs leaf and bough
Tread of foot and word of greeting
Hoes in hand and hats for shade
Bark of dog and back door closing
We make our way to tend summer’s garden
Bare toes in earth’s fresh soil
Soon may seek shoe’s insulation
Sun is rising as weeds are cleared
Call of mourning dove quiet pleasure
Accompanies day’s song of life
Lawn mower thrum and tractor rumble
Rasp of blades and rip of grass and weed
To free tender promises hidden in their midst
Thoughts and dreams of summer’s bounty
Rhythmic movements lift and fall
Another row completed now
Heat and sweat are well repaid
Cool glass of water to quench our thirst
And splash upon warm faces
Times we share in our summer garden
The Still Small Voice 