Senan Of Somerset
Senan Of Somerset

The Hedge layer

 

The busy time of harvest done
The fields now bleak and bare
The time of early setting sun
For some brings cold despair
But autumn is a golden time
Of plenty, feast and tale
A glass of steaming spice-ed wine
A pint of rich dark ale

But the hedge that ringed the barley crop
Is in a shabby state
The growth of brush is high on top
A job that cannot wait
Poles of blackthorn stand leaf bare
Held up by rose and brier
So pull and cut the devil’s snare
And consign it to the fire

Bare bones of blackthorn lines now stand
As hazel stakes prepare
To lay this hedge needs gentle hand,
Sharp blade, and greatest care
To cut through stem and leave living bark
His skill must be well honed
Weave and stake he leaves his mark
A brushwood herringbone.

Although these trees are laid to rest
Death now is not the end
For green will shoot from every cut
And bud from every bend
From old wood frail, new life set free
When spring returns again
Leaf and flower from resting tree
Greets bee and chirping wren.

 

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