The Garden Wasn't A Garden By Annette Wynne

The garden wasn’t a garden,
It was a castle tall,
The trees were mighty turrets,
Ramparts, the garden wall.
The breeze was the lone piper
Playing a wild song,
And Freddie was the Black Knight
The afternoon long.
Then dark came to the castle
Around the piper’s head,
And Mother carried the Black Knight,
And put him safe to bed.