I wrote this poem a few years ago when we lived in a house with a very large, wild garden.  We had lots of bats flying around at night. It was quite creepy, but I loved walking down the full length of the garden at night and hearing the foxes calling, owls hooting etc.  I let my imagination run riot, hence the poem.

The Wild Garden

It's totally wild - out of control,
haven for hedgehog, mouse or vole.

But come out rodents, if you dare,
the vixen's stirring in her lair!

Dark trees are looming up above,
Do I feel a hand, giving me a shove?

Eerie sounds, I hear this night,
would give the bravest soul a fright,

A cat, as black as coal glides by,
only visible by her glinting eye.

And on this ink-black, starry night,
I sense the swish of broomstick's flight.

That cackling witch, she's on the prowl,
alerted by a hooting owl.

Large bats are circling overhead
I'm feeling sick and full of dread.

Will I make it to my house?
I'm just glad I'm not a mouse!