In a moon bathed garden
Small bats flutter in the sky.
In their moon bathed garden
Their calls reach notes unearthly high.
In a moon bathed garden
Butterflies sleep in their lots.
In their moon bathed garden
They are Commas, Great whites and Tortoise shells
All slotted in their box.
In a moon bathed garden
Pidgins “Coo” pleasantly in their sleep.
In their moon bathed garden
They don’t even make a peep.
In a moon bathed garden
A Hedgehog snuffles round.
In his moon bathed garden
He hardly makes a sound.
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Regards - Matty