sunny sunday

Armed with a Quiver of pencils;
A white drawing pad;
I gaze onto my garden;
Its a sunny Sunday;

I sit on my writing table;
Gaze onto my garden;
A honey bee zooms across;
Ponder if the poor insect ever gets a Holiday;

The sun shines brightly;
Kingfisher keeps an eye on the pond;
The poor tadpole's;
The little fish dive deeper;

My cat stirs lazily on a sun warmed ledge;
Butterflies swarm all over the flower's;
A spider weaves her web;
A yellow wasp flies overhead;

My gaze shifts afar at the edge of my garden;
My young neighbor smiles at me;
I smile back;
She tends to her garden and her green house;

Her actions gentle and subtle;
lovingly she tends to her flowers;
I smile to myself;
Her dress an intricate web of flowers;

I muse at her movements;
Delicate and tender they are;
My pencils a myriad hue;
I might as well sketch a butterfly ;