Here be Tygers.
The wind circles round, laughing
As she dances with it
Trailing sparkles and spangles
And giggles in the air.
The trees look down and listen
The flowers nod and smile
Marvelling at the sun
Playing catch-me through her hair
A strange spell fills the garden
Time has no meaning here
Things once so familiar
Are no longer the same
And just for a minute
The world's a brighter place
Sprinkled with the magic
From a six year old's game.
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Comments about this poem (Here be Tygers. by Martin O'Neill )
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