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Butterflies and moths have been around for millions of years. They used to be a common sight in gardens, but numbers have declined since the 1940s along with our other native wildlife species such as bees and hedgehogs.

It will come as no surprise to hear this loss is due to destruction of natural habitats such as wildflower meadows, peatbogs and ancient woodlands in favour of intensive farming practices, roads and housing developments that have stripped away the majority of their nesting and foods sites. Climate change is partly responsible for butterfly decline too, producing wetter weather that alters the distribution of certain species.............Click the image below to read the complete article at DIY Garden (https://diygarden.co.uk)

My nerves are a tingle.
My hands start to shake.
I am uncertain
if I'm dreaming or awake.
A terrible thing; most unkind
as thoughts race through my mind.
What happens to us,
if this Nation of We,
becomes that beckoning light,
that flickers and dies?

Is there a roto rooter for your mind.
Words of hate, of our fellow man.
Can it purge these words, most unkind?
I wish there were. I even plea,
Clear out my mind, do it for me.

There is a gnome
living in our yard
who appears to be stoic,
trying very hard,
to be alert
when the rabbits
come out to eat.
He guards against bugs,
and crawly things,
but doesn't like slugs.
Keeping an eye on
Cats that walk by,
on their prowl.
The Cats ignore,
they don't even growl,
as they search
for their usual prey.
All in all
the gnomes
will play every day.
If you are alert,
like I usually am,
you can see
They're out of place.
The quiet gnome
have made this
garden their home,
and that's all
right with me,
as we live
together, most happily.

The greatness of this World is seen
with every sunrise with daylight in between.
What greater view, for which to strive,
then to watch the World come alive.
The musical notes, of the song
bird, float on the pure morning air,
as Bees and branches of trees,
stirred by the wind, are heard everywhere.

It's time to write.
It's time to shed,
All of these words,
Stuck in my head.
I must now write,
Quick as I can,
For words flee
Much faster than
I can put them to paper
And so you see,
If it's not written,
I won't capture thee.

I was in a dream.
On a path, I chose to follow,
until I came to a pond,
with a large log, all hollow.
The opening much taller than I .
Outside it was covered with moss,
I moved to the mouth and did try
to enter the log; I heard my name; calling
and in a few steps, I was falling,
landing on my old knees.
In front of me, a sight that could please,
was the face of a friend, no longer here.
I struggled to rise from this musty place,
trying to crawl one knee at a time.
The air became heavy as if from smoke,
then suddenly, from the dream, I awoke.

In this dark World, the light you bring
Is happiness and love; It's everything.
The way you talk to people
Strangers and friend,
Sets the stage; where you'll
be at the end.
The end of life's journey,
Shortens every day.
Be thankful to those who helped
Along the way.

Look at me.
Look this way.
Can you not see me?
I wish you would say,
I'll be right with you,
Instead of looking away.
Don't ignore my spot in your place,
Please I came here to eat,
Not just be a face,
That you choose to ignore.
This probably sounds terrible
But have I become invisible?

In the morning hours,
sitting, with pen in hand,
words pouring forth
like mental sand.
Falling to paper,
inscribed with ink,
only I know what I think.
My mind is filled,
with words galore,
pouring out through an open door,
for my hand is starting to hurt,
as I sift through the sandy dirt.