The Hedgerow by Elizabeth Henry

Along the narrow, snaky lane

Grows garlic white and pink vervain.

Whilst speedwell trembles in the breeze,

Hedera twines and coils the trees.

Jack-by-the-hedge, you’re sure to see,

surrounded by anemone.

Jewelled balsam saying, Touch me not’,

Catharticum and melilot.

 

Fat nettles that will bite and sting

Soon mellow on the cooker-ring.

When mixed with spice and neatly ground,

A tangy soup is swiftly found.

 

And tucked inside this verdant fence,

Where leaves are green and lush and dense,

A lonely sparrow rears her young,

Delighting all with dulcet song.