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The rustic gate did swing upon its hinge
As the breeze around the hide began to freshen
The evening sky retained an orange tinge
As the setting sun did dip and slowly lessen.
Shadows lengthened and so began to merge
As night's fingers closed upon the scene
The bullfrogs began their nightly dirge
Amidst the pond reeds, tall and bottle green.

  The waters stirred up by the freshening breeze
Rippled in a spreading searching ark.
The green leaves sighed throughout the trees
As light gave way to the encroaching dark
Nocturnal creatures soon began to stir
To hunt, to search, to socialise, to forage
To chase their quarry through the cocklebur
Or contentedly graze the grasses and the borage.
  Fireflies filled the sky like silvery stars,
Brown owls did swoop on silent wings, with eerie cry,
Whilst on the ground nestled shy and meek chukars
With their offspring chicks beneath their wing close by.
And so began my long and lonely vigil
As I crouched down here within my hide,
Observing the habitat of the tiny hawksbill
In this land where tropical turtles do reside.
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Copyright 2005 David Burt , all rights reserved