Down the garden path

In the sense that I love you
There can be no denying
Like the jet trails in the sky
Or the song of starling dying

There are gem stones in the garden
Hidden in the grass
And the children are treasure hunting
But I know their time won't last

For finding what you look for
Can be a curse its true
And losing what you hoped to keep
Can be the making of you

There are wrong steps in the garden
There are stepping stone come loose
And the worms are wriggling on the top soil
Like a prisoner in a noose

And the starling is waiting yonder
On the fence beside the hedge
As the Hawthorn branches shield him
Like a spy on a castle ledge

And he's listening for the winter
He's hearing the nightingale's song
The writhing worm is his fodder
And soon down he'll swoop upon

Because everything in the garden
Is a meal for somebody else
Be it a carrot in the vegetable patch
Or beetle on the green house shelf