I miss the magic of hedgerows

I miss the magic of hedgerows

Somewhere they still exist

But not in the world

Of acreage, combines

And farming conglomerates

There is something homely

About small fields

Romantic about a border

Thick with gorse

Hazelnut trees, Blackthorn

Hips and haws

Itchy when put down a neck

Beneath a school shirt

In the winter, snow

Would create a canopy

To hide beneath

Running along the ditch

Escape from Colditz

Following the footsteps

Of an old Fox

Or was it a Badger

Imagining Alice

Lost in time

A white sky

In total surround

Soaked to the skin

Shivering with delight

Frozen but happy

Secrets are safe enough with me

Wetlands were created

By children seeking to build

A swimming hole

It is a protected area now

A nature reserve

Fenced off

With a redressed hedge

Dog Roses as well as Blackberries

Ripe for picking

Funny how things change back

Into how they were

If you just let them