David Attenborough’s in My Garden

David Attenborough’s in my garden
he’s talking to the ants,
Whispering in his dulcet tones
whilst hiding in the plants.

He’s lying on his tummy
and wriggling through the grass,
Cooing at the wood pigeons
that flutter in the bath.

We’ve tried to be good wholesome hosts
but he’s refused his cup of tea,
Says he’ll only get his food or drink
when it’s fallen from a tree.

The cats are none the wiser
as he says his piece to camera,
He’s been out there now for 3 full weeks
you have to admire his stamina.

One day he dressed up as a flower
to get closer to the bees,
Put petals on his eyebrows
and leaves up to his knees.

David Attenborough’s in my garden
He just won’t go away,
He’s mimicking a squirrel now
I think he’s here to stay.