Invasion of the Great Tits

In gardens lush with green delight,
Where nut-laden feeders stand in sight,
Imagine if, with joyful tweets,
Great tits arrived in grand fleets.

They’d flutter near with vibrant wings,
A chorus of enchanting sings,
Around the feeder, a lively crowd,
Their melodies both clear and loud.

With plumage bright, a feathered show,
A symphony amid the boughs would grow,
Around the nuts, a fluttering dance,
As great tits joined in sweet romance.

Among the blooms and leaves so green,
If sparrows transformed, a sight unseen,
The garden’s tale would take new flight,
With great tits perched in soft twilight.

Don’t Fear the Orb Spider!

In the garden’s gentle web, she spins her art,
A giant banded orb, both bold and smart,
With stripes of yellow, black, she weaves her grace,
Don’t fear this spider, know her rightful place.

She hangs with patience, watching from above,
Her purpose clear, to feast on insects, and to love,
Not people, never them, her gentle plan,
To keep our world in balance, nature’s hand.

So when you see her, don’t retreat in fright,
Her gentle nature shines in morning light,
Respect her space, for in her web she’ll dwell,
A guardian of our garden, we must tell.

Embrace this orb, resplendent in her grace,
A helpful friend, she finds her rightful place,
In nature’s tapestry, her role is clear,
To keep our world in balance, never fear.

Lament of the Fallen Trees

In the heart of the forest, silent and deep,
Lies a tale of the fallen, their secrets to keep.
Once proud and majestic, they stood tall and free,
Now they whisper their sorrow, the lament of the tree.

Beneath the emerald canopy, they danced with the breeze,
Leaves shimmering like gold in the dappled sun’s tease.
But the chainsaw’s cruel bite and relentless song,
Left them scarred and broken, their lives tragically wrong.

In the stillness of twilight, their spirits still mourn,
For the homes of the birds and the creatures, now torn.
Their rings held stories of ages gone by,
Of storms they had weathered, under the endless sky.

They weep for the rivers, the streams, and the rills,
For the soil that once cradled their roots, now stills.
The forest grows thinner, its heartache profound,
As they sigh in the moonlight, their voices resound.

Let us heed this lament, let us learn from their plight,
To cherish the trees and protect them with might.
For their sacrifice whispers, a plea in the breeze,
To preserve Mother Earth, her wonders and trees.