Still Life

The garden gnome seems quite at home
Just sitting there with thoughtful stare
Beneath the tree as still can be
With jacket green and trousers blue
Red pointy hat somewhat askew
His brown boots hardly worn at all
He welcomes those that come to call:

A hedgehog with a point of view
A snail with haste that seems undue
A bird that flying visits makes
A bee too busy to take breaks
And many others I’ve no doubt
That I do not yet know about.

Though of few words, it must be said,
He seems somehow goodwill to spread
And often when I happen by
I swear he looks with kindly eye.