This haven

ffwiiit, chip chip chip chip
ffwiitt, chip chip chip chip
shwoosh, swoohsh, shwoosh
jingle, jingle, jingle
jangle, jingle, jangle, jingle
the breeze blows a gentle gust
enough to tickle the wind chime into
peaceful melody
and the birds, busy in their chatter
hiding on the branches
repeating their Tourette like banter
as I bask in the tranquillity of it all
surrounded by flowers, and shrubs and roses
profusion of colours and scents and structures
food for the wildlife, the bees, the butterflies
the pesky greenfly, slugs and snails
each of us speaking a foreign language independent of the other
yet, we co-exist in harmony
and when I leave this place, this garden, which I
planted and grew with love, for them
for me, for the next guardian of my haven
I wonder, will they even care?