The Edges – A Poem by Deborah Mercer

I will sing of the edges. Of the places where stray seeds, wind and nature sown,
are caught in the capricious dusk and dawn winds, blown,
and waft, and dance, and whirl, and settle down
and make their home on the edges of the town.

I will sing of the edges. Of cow parsley’s white, pungent, sour-sweet flowering,
in profusion at the places where restless birds sing
and hop and circle, beady-eyed, look down
on the wild places at the edges of the town.

I will sing of the edges. Of clumps of nettles, of their lurking sting
but also of the bright, bold butterflies they bring,
a rainbow fluttering and falling down
in the wild places at the edges of the town.

I will sing of the edges. Of where the sea-born wind will chant and moan
when it sees the wild things that its own breath has blown
and soon it will be autumn, and it will rain weary leaves down
on the wild places at the edge of the town.

We’re very happy to present this poem by one of our most prolific ZenGarden.club writers.  Debbie Mercer hails from the East Midlands section of England, and her short stories are delightful tales of village life and gardens and memorable characters.

Learn more about this wonderful writer and poet:

Seeds blown by the wind create a lovely canvas of color
Butterfly on nettle blooms

Read about nettles:  10 uses for nettles

Golden glow of autumn leaves
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