One wonders what really does occur
Under the bushes n shrubs n flowers~
After late night moon passes behind a cloud
Before n after midnight in the wee small hours~
First could be a russle within the leaves
And then the quickest pass by~
A wee flash n a dash n hopefuly not a splash
In the early morning as dawn is nigh~
When all is silent n safe or seems to be
They would then come out to do their thing~
Or as I would imagine this is how it goes
When the little people come out to dance and sing~
Ever so small and as cute n all
Each one dressed in their very own way~
All then would appear not a sound one could hear
As they did what they do , dance n play~
So small in extreme while we sleep n dream
As they begin all that they do~
The wee little folk in hour of the mo poke
Never to be seen by me n you~
They arrange it this way do dare to say
As you can imagine if them we all saw~
With the world as it is now we'd spoil it some how
And then our gardens they all would ignore~
So many different kinds some would blow our minds
But I bet they are still there for sure~
As I notice little things when sunlight the dawn brings
And I hope that they stay ever more~
Terrence Michael Sutton
Copyright 1977 and again 2011
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