Under the moon lit skies there's a sound,
A mouse running under the leaves on the ground.
Over head an owl flies hunting it's prey,
A hedgehog on the ground scrambled away.
As the wind picks up a little stronger,
The silence here is no longer.
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Author:
Jelly baby (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 1st, 2025 03:57
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 23
- Users favorite of this poem: KristineT
Offline)
Comments2
Clever and cute this poem has a child like innocence to it. Short but fun to read. Lovely
Thank you so much 😊
Nocturnal life! Once feared, now a wonderment! 🙏🏻🕊
I love how things look so different at night. 😊
Indeed! I suppose it started the first time when we as kids were allowed to sleep outdoors at night, next to the parent’s window in the Ute bed 👍🏻🕊🙏🏻
Yes I guess you're right there are the times when out camping 🏕️🥾😊
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