Cuttlebone and Cobwebs

Swop

Our garden and nature are doing a swap,

I'm absolutely delighted, hope they don't stop.

It has given us bluebells, primroses, jack-in-the-hedge,

solomon-seal and ivy now skirt the garden's edge.

We have sent roses, honeysuckle and pink campion, that wasn't there,

and we're hoping the clematis will soon bravely bare

her subtle pink face amongst the the thorn-bush tangle,

where the mauve lilac tree has a sport amongst the wrangle.

Aquilegia is hovering, she may soon join the confusion

of stitchwort and grasses and fading snowdrops profusion;

of course the snowdrops marched in, the first, most welcome, to enter

with little heart's-ease wandering-seeding the garden's very centre.

Now vinca and bugle would grace any bank 

but the monkey faced mimulus will need keeping strictly in rank;

she loves the damp places, and let's face it, this is Wales,

only ignorance wants monoculture, where just one species prevails.

Lalandii, previously planted, we keep pruned back and down,

in the hope regenerated blackthorn will again wear her blossomed crown,

the sloes, thus generated, can then sweeten and colour the gin

stocked in our pantry, to see Christmas' in.

Daffodils would be nice, perhaps I'll give them a kick start,

purchase a bag, prize the heavy earth apart;

not those large cultivated, bright though they are,

rather the dainty indigenous you now see so few and far.

If the hawthorn and hazel grace the boundary with their boughs

we can rest awhile in shade, whenever summertime allows

and marvel at the swap shop, our garden has become,

with it's myriad of blooms gifted freely, every one.