Little Bunny was always a bit too shy
She liked to stay quietly off to one side
Yet inside she longed to be triumphant and brave
And above all else wished to dance on a stage
She secretly practiced with a small group of friends
A gathering of beetles, blackbirds and wrens
Friendly woodland folk who knew of her dreams
They gently encouraged her as she leapt in sunbeams

Standing on a mossy tree stump in a cool and quiet glade
She held a hazel twig above her head, twirling in the shade
When suddenly the twig began to sparkle and glow
With colourful sparks flying out like a firework show
With a gasp she looked down at her little pink toes
Where a pair of beautiful ballerina shoes began to grow
They ribboned their way around her ankles and tied in a bow
As three little field mice appeared and stood neatly in a row

They hopped onto her tummy and scampered about
Magically weaving threads darting this way and that
“Oh my goodness, that really does tickle!”
cried little Bunny in a laughing fit of the giggles
As rainbow colours filled the air amidst all the fun
Oh what a wonderful princess dress they had spun
Of the most delicate petals in hues of pinks and plums
Finally she was a real ballerina dancing proudly in the sun

All artwork and poems copyright protected by the Artist. Sarah Reilly, Love Country by Sarah Reilly. All rights reserved.

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At the edge of a Suffolk village is a woodland we call home
Through it a winding babbling stream tumbles and roams
Under the cover of ancient oak trees many hares play and run
Our long velvet ears flapping on our way for a day full of fun
The wild flower meadow is sweet with fragrance blowing gently on the breeze
We chase each other in the long grass under the buzzing of the bees
We stop and clean our whiskers and paws, watching for passers by
A field mouse gave us a wink today as he chased a butterfly
As the sun dips low we snuggle together to watch the stars above
For we are a family, we are blessed and we are LOVE.

All artwork and poems copyright protected by the Artist. Sarah Reilly, Love Country by Sarah Reilly. All rights reserved.

The post Our Family Keyring appeared first on Love Country by Sarah Reilly.

I welcomed you into the world and the sun kissed your sweet face
A mothers’ love unconditional wrapped in our first embrace
Each day filled with laughter and learning, oh how you made me smile
Always staying close, the sound of your little feet alongside mine

Bedtime stories of magic and adventures in a place way off far
I sang you soothing lullabies as we lay and watched the stars
As I watch you grow my heart fills with pride at how you see our beautiful land
I let you go into the world but am always right here, always holding your hand

All artwork and poems copyright protected by the Artist. Sarah Reilly, Love Country by Sarah Reilly. All rights reserved.

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Little Hare was out collecting healing herbs and flowers from her ancient woodland home. A blackbird sang to her as it flew off from a branch of elderberry into the forget-me-not blue sky.
Early sunshine happily streamed through the oak tree as its old wise limbs creaked and leaves rustled. The air was warm and full of soft humming from the bees and whispering breeze.
As she daintily made her way on her soft paws the earth was deliciously rich and full of new wildflowers emerging from beneath. She tried not to disturb the bluebells as she bent down to pick up three acorns which she carefully placed in her satchel, for they carried the spirit of the Oak Tree.
Suddenly she heard a muffled cry, and, looking around, spotted a bright young Fox sitting holding his foot in pain. He had a gloriously bushy tail and twinkly amber eyes.  With a quick hop and a leap she was by his side, “my dear little Fox what have you done?” she asked.  “I caught it in the Bramble Bush” said the Fox regretfully. “I was collecting juicy blackberries and tore it on a thorn”.
“Let me help you”, said Hare kindly, and gently took his fluffy foot which had a nasty cut, “I have a remedy for that”. She rummaged in her satchel and pulled out a little jar of honey, sugar and a little wooden spoon with a silver bell on the end and swiftly mixed up a paste.
Hare looked about, then skipped across the tree roots to a clump of wild foxgloves. Carefully she picked a few of the bell-shaped flowers and leaves. She brought them back to Fox and crumpled the leaves into the paste which she then spread onto his wounded foot with the little spoon. “Foxgloves are plants of the fairies”, she explained, “they will heal you with their magic, but best not to lick your foot” she warned, “they are quite potent”.
The little Fox signed in relief but still looked sad, so Hare took the last few flowers and popped each one on the end of his paws and said “look! Now you have Fox Gloves ha ha!”
The Fox laughed and laughed feeling much better. Would you like to come to tea? He asked. “ I am making a delicious Blackberry crumble. “I would be delighted “ said Hare, and taking his arm they made their way through the woods. They spent that afternoon baking crumble and drinking sweet mint tea. And from that day on, the Fox and the Hare became the very best of friends.

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Brown Hare was out searching for some tasty winter grass, as is snowed, overhead hundreds of birds fluttered past
He watched them with joy from the field where he sat, then spotted a distressed bird darting this way and that
My Dear little bird please tell me what is the matter? “I cant find a coat!” He cried through his chit and his chatter
For it is time to flock to the thrush family ball, where all Robins and Blackbirds and Nightingales call
They all have smart red coats but I cannot find mine, so upset was the bird in his eyes bright tears shined
With a smile Hare said gently it’s because you are young, once you are bigger you will grow the finest red one!
For you my dear friend are a Robin don’t you see? A sure sign of winter like the snow of the trees
You will drop your first feathers and this I can vow, then grow a splendid red chest of which to be proud!
With relief Robin knew he really did belong , and flew off to his family with his heart full of song

All artwork and poems copyright protected by the Artist. Sarah Reilly, Love Country by Sarah Reilly. All rights reserved.

The post The Hare and the Robin Keyring appeared first on Love Country by Sarah Reilly.

The winter hare always has to be so cunning and clever
He scampers about in the open despite the awful chilly weather
For precious food becomes sparse when the temperature drops
Shimmering snow covers the fields and there are no more farmers crops
As a wise and mystical creature, the hare will always survive
Chewing moss and hunting for berries they dig and they dive
As glittering snowflakes softly fall and land on his wet nose
The shining moon above watches over him wherever he goes
As others silently hibernate, the hare travels all winter long
But soon it will be spring and the birds will burst into sweet song
The harshness of winter will be a distant memory for the hare
As sunshine returns bringing an abundance of food to share
Refreshed and relaxed he will be sipping fresh water from the lake
Remembering his long days chasing berries and snowflakes

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The post Berries & Snowflakes Keyring appeared first on Love Country by Sarah Reilly.

Today I quietly crept down to the riverbank on the grassy fen
A tangle of twisted tree branches hides the entrance to a den
Cool fresh water flows through the silky green rushes and weeds
It is here I found the happiest of homes nestled behind the reeds
For it is filled with a family of river otters about to emerge
I sit perfectly still behind a bush on the verge

Here they come! Scampering down the sandy bank excitedly
Mum, with pup in mouth approaches the water very carefully
In she swims for pups first lesson on how to use his webbed feet
Diving under and up again the love and care she shows is so sweet
Such an affectionate group of otters they just want to have fun
Splashing each other with squeals of delight in the golden summer sun

I laugh as they romp on the land, rolling around and chasing each other playfully
then quickly jump back into the river steering with silky long tails so gracefully
Their love is clear from the sense of fun and affection they openly display
Cuddling and grooming each other they cling together throughout the day
Such a wonderful afternoon I had watching them all so happily
For to be an otter means it is utterly otterly all about family.

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Deep in the heart of the Cotswolds stands a thatched cottage on Daisy Dale Farm
In summer the pink roses cover the entrance greeting visitors with undeniable charm
They come for the fresh speckled golden eggs that Mrs Potts sells from the garden gate
Her juicy pork pies and pear and ginger crumble are famous at the local country fete
Married after the war, a simple farm life was what they both had in their hearts
Life was hard back then but with love and kindness they got through a difficult start
Even though farming life is hard, Farmer Potts is more laidback than you might think
For his grandfather taught him the secret, he knows happy cows produce the best milk
So, with this knowledge in mind, Daisy Dale was always destined to be filled with milking cows
So, in the first light of dawn the farmer heads to the barn fulfilling his early morning vow
“Good Morning ladies!” He calls with joy in his heart as many black and white heads come into view
“Moo!” They greet him happily, jostling themselves into position they know just what to do
As the ladies line up, he attaches the milkers letting them know its time to let the milk flow
Whistling as he works, calling the cows in turn as they happily run in and clattering out, they go
Filling the jars with their delicious warm milk, some of which goes to their calf’s eager young bellies
After hours of work the farmer heads off for his breakfast grateful to remove his wellies
The cows moo contentedly as they head out to the pastures to enjoy a good natter and a graze
Plenty of time to eat before they are milked again and then enjoy the suns afternoon haze
Slowly another day passes and the farmer heads indoors as stars begin to twinkle overhead
Their busy farming life fills them with contentment as the Potts drift off silently in their cosy bed
Outside the graceful resident Barn Owl hoots as he sits in the rafters of the old dairy barn
Watching over the lovely ladies as they settle down for another peaceful night on Daisy Dale Farm

t!

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As night fell the woodland was bathed in shimmering silver moonlight
A young pheasant suddenly croaked out a strangled noise in fright
He had been creeping timidly through undergrowth hardly daring to breath
As a strange haunting sound terrified him echoing through the ancient trees

Scared of the dark he wasn’t very brave of that there was no doubt
In fact, everything seemed to make him jump, his eyes wildly darting about
Screeeech! There it was again like a wailing scream, what creature could this be?
He froze and closed his beady eyes tight shut, maybe it was best not to see

Trembling he felt a gust of wind so strong it almost brought him to his knees
He opened his eyes and there was a giant white owl with eyes black as inky sea
Instead of fleeing the young pheasant found himself oddly feeling still
Those eyes looked deep into him and he felt only their kind goodwill

A friendship was struck between them, a silent gentleman’s pact
The wise owl would bestow on the young pheasant the courage that he lacked
The pheasant would watch over the owl in the day so that he could slumber without fear
And so, no harm came to either of them and their friendship deepened year after year.

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The post The Gentle Pheasant Keyring appeared first on Love Country by Sarah Reilly.

Think of a country garden and one thing springs to my mind
A sweetly singing little bird of a very special kind
The gardener’s friend with a scarlet crimson breast
Darting from wheelbarrow to spade with very little rest

My friendly loveable robin is always welcome to me
She swoops in to get some worms; she watches me you see
Flitting and hopping from garden cane to flower pot
Patiently waiting for me to dig over the vegetable plot

In spring she nests in unusual places, an old hat or boot will do
I live in harmony with this little bird her trust in me which grew
So dear, as she reminds me of what my mother used to say
That when missing loved ones are near a robin will appear

She remains a loyal visitor as the summer turns to fall
When I feed my little Rosie, I feed a piece of my soul
As the garden turns to white and the leaves drop away
She provides a welcome flash of colour on a crisp winter’s day

All artwork and poems copyright protected by the Artist. Sarah Reilly, Love Country by Sarah Reilly. All rights reserved.

The post Rosie Robin Keyring appeared first on Love Country by Sarah Reilly.