In a corner of the garden
a wild patch grows,
An eyesore of weeds and nasty nettles.
Today, I am cross and spiky with you,
in that moment you are the nettle of my life.
And so I stomp out to the garden,
to do battle with that idle weed.
The sky is as blue as speedwell,
sneaking around this neglected spot.
Flashes of fire and feathered eyespot settle.
A drape of spiny, velvet black and spotty caterpillars.
Sheltered pinhead eggs lie
in the proud nettles nursery.
Suddenly, I’m needle eyed and contrite
for I forgot that nettles are protectors too.
Winding their way to other worlds.
All that I thought I knew rebutted,
by this contrary plant.
I shall make peace offerings.
The nettles can keep their patch.
A few tender tips thankfully picked for tea
and with a spoon of a honeyed apology.
They will soothe your swollen bones.