The Garden Party Poem by Angela Wybrow

The bright sun is shining down
On the party guests milling around.
Everyone has gathered on the stripy green lawn,
Which, by the gardener, has recently been shorn.

Garden parties are always such a pleasure.
A lovely way to spend a few hours of leisure.
The guests gather round in small mixed groups.
Periodically, there’s the sound of laughter or whoops.

Some people sit and relax in recliner chairs,
As the soft sound of music fills the balmy air.
The guests are soon engaged in different conversations,
Exchanging a mixture of interesting and trifling information.

With each other, the guests chat and make new friends.
Those who may have previously squabbled make amends.
The ladies wear pretty, summery, floaty dresses.
Sporting a variety of beautifully dressed tresses.

A trestle table covered in a red gingham tablecloth,
Holds a variety of inviting food and drink aloft.
There’s a selection of sandwiches: cheese, tuna and ham,
And fresh scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam.

There’s roast chicken legs, pies and mini sausage rolls,
And salad items are laid out in brightly coloured bowls.
There are cocktail sausages and cubes of cheese on sticks.
Of finger food, there really is quite an eclectic mix.

The ladies, who are on diets, needlessly quibble,
Over whether or not, at the food, they should nibble.
There’s everyone’s favourite drink, Pimms and lemonade,
And, a large pitcher of alcoholic punch, freshly home-made.

At the bottom of the garden, children play by the old oak,
And there’s shrills of laughter, as they all share a joke.
From a tiny tot, there are joyful cries,
As she chases after pretty butterflies.

A toast to their hosts, the guests propose,
As the party finally draws to a close.
It’s been an enjoyable and successful day,
And now, all that is left to do is clear away.