From the barren hedge, your bloom is first.
Abundant white flowers, from bud they soon burst.
So ahead of the game, it’s apparently clear.
A pioneer of the spring, a sight we hold dear.
Like snow upon bush, tree branch and limb.
Casting out winter, the brightness undimmed.
For it is you that we look to, in knowing the way.
As month passes month, and night becomes day
Your perches house dunnock, and that of their kin.
Your barbs protect chicks, of blackbird, robin.
The green fire is coming, but you are the leader.
Leaves unfurl upwards, but not those of cedar.
Blue skies are present now, the air is so crisp.
Clarity of direction, no words carry lisp.
For you are the forerunner, of those that come next.
The flowers of the woodland, as nature has sex.
To you we are glad, of bringing us peace.
Food will be plentiful, an autumn feast.
But let’s not forget summer, of temperature hot.
Where you blend in background, and the harvest is got.
By Simon Blackler
Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020
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