The Wild lies waiting

The Wild lies waiting

Along the jagged margins of our land
The Wild lies waiting, giant thistles
In the van, advancing over the hill
Silent on grandmother’s footsteps it creeps
Making a mock of all your toil

You turned your back whilst Spring rains fell and fell
No gardener there to tend the careful plot
And savage weeds will always win the fight
No contest where the tender seedlings grow
Though glorious poppies make us smile

A meadow’s high where orchard lawn was planned
On wildflower bank coarse grasses careless blow
Heedless of measured rows and grand design
How soon your work is overthrown, wilderness
Moving back in to claim her own

3rd June 2009, Hounoux, for Andy, the conscientious gardener.