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In The Wee Small HoursOne 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 2007 Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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