Laughter by Olive Enoch Purely Nature poem

No one in the garden
Up the mossy path,
Yet I almost certainly
Heard a little laugh.

Light as fluffy thistledown,
Fresh as dew at morning,
Happy as a bird's song
When the day is dawning.

No one in the rockery
As I tiptoe round,
Listening for another laugh,
But scarce a single sound .

Nothing but the sound of grass
Rippling in the breeze.
No one in the garden
But the flowers and trees.