Short Hedgerows Poems

My
larder-
hedgerows of
wine,jellies and
jam...

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Hedgerows ablaze with succulent sweets;
willpower melts in a crumble...

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Midst
hedgerows
turning green-
nature's pastiche
slowly awakens from winter sleep....

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Midst
hedgerows
turning green-
nature's pastiche
slowly awakens from winter sleep....

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Midst
hedgerows
turning green-
nature's pastiche
slowly awakens from its winter sleep....

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in the sunshine
a blackberry blossoms
winter's summer pudding


blackberries 
above the nettles-
just out of reach...

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down leaf-strewn lanes
hedgerows of inspirations
a poet’s dreaming reveals
a poetry records it well
a day preempted...

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apples overhang the orchard wall,
sun-kissed drapes now about to fall.

hedgerows ablaze with succulent sweets
will-power melts in a crumble


inspired by Constance's contest...

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Dew
Droplet
Tapestry 
Weaved silken strands
Studded diamonds
Adorn the spiders craft

Clinging to green hedgerows 
Glinting. reflecting
Radiant rays 
Sunlight streaks
Sparkling
Gems...

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the subservience of sunflowers
posed and heavy with dried yellow
spreads over fields of faded growth,

the sun stages the horizon
of sparse trees and hedgerows;
beyond the hope of lost gold....

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The honeysuckle,leafing green,
new arrivals,in hedgerows seen,
Spring,Spring is in the earth,
our thoughts turn to new birth.

from Friday Becomes Easter Day n/a in Spring (contest 2/27/2012 sponsor Carol Sunsine Brown)...

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Grey
winding
lonesome road
laments beyond
high hedgerows hiding  
sun blushing rose spilling 
throughout darkening day sky.
Speed teasing devils push homeward
lyrics screaming bring  pent-up release
driving out sorrow lures transient peace...

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A stored ripening sunlight,
opens veins under wet sods.

We are conveyed on the thaw,
upon the guttering soil
through the squelching narrows
of wayside hedgerows.

Spring mops and sops,
breezes furbish,
unlock a pearly dew
to melt the frosted prints
of paws and claws....

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Among ancient groves,
One summer night alone.
Secrets on the wind.

And awakening to
Mother natures symphonic
Mystery of life.

When people used to
Find a home in the hearth-light,
Owls haunt the hedgerows.

Each day an event
Every step an adventure,
To new horizons!...

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Midst
hedgerows
turning green-
nature's pastiche
slowly awakens from winter sleep.

NOTE:The challenge with Ray Stebbing's tetractys form is -that each line is required 'to stand on its own ' & the poem itself  is to express a complete thought,within the narrow compass of 20 syllables....

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Soft shadow slippers
Shuffled through the hedgerows
Aimlessly ramble
Sample the texture
Of twilights tenor
Lean against
Still warm bark
Dip their toes
In the ripple-less lea
Fill the cups
Of cooling roses
With a silent chill
Then pale
As darkness
Consumes them
Leaving
Only the scent
Of passing
...

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There’s nowt so canny and nowt so deep 
As the musings of the highland sheep
They’ll talk of this and talk of that 
Of what they ate and where they shat
Or ponder on life’s mysteries 
Like, is the grass beneath the trees
Much finer than the one that grows 
Down beside the old hedgerows


© John W Fenn  18-09-2009...

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There’s nowt so canny and nowt so deep 
As the musings of the highland sheep
They’ll talk of this and talk of that 
Of what they ate and where they shat
Or ponder on life’s mysteries 
Like, is the grass beneath the trees
Much finer than the stuff that grows 
Down beside the old hedgerows


© John W Fenn  18-09-2009...

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The flop and flurry
of woozy wings
tromps over hedgerows.
Claws scrabble
feathers flounce.

Here a rowdy cackle
in a coddled coo,
there a hullabaloo
in a ruffled flutter.
Birdsongs pumps up,
balloon into chattering tunes.

Another teaming tussle,
another musical lurch
as sleepy birds
roll off
their nocturnal perch....

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The wind has a grip on the land.
Penny Eyes, the straw man on the field cross
has broken into a crooked smile,
his hands flutter like dying crow wings.
Trees whip the sky.
Blisters appear in the iced-over field furrows.
Under the wide rooted hedgerows
the white fingers of the yet to be seen,
dream of being green....

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The tent of Autumn is wet,
Nights as dark as creosote,
Days that fall like

Mother apples which bruise
With cold sweetness.
The impending conspiracy of

Frost;Laburnums stripped to
Bare frames, each fox pulled
By the neck into the

Hedgerows.Let go, curled leaf,
You are tired and dragged with sleep,
And can not look the snow away....

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No one could call you spineless.
The armour takes care of that.
Getting to the heart of you is hard -
that quiet determination that lets you
get on with living...
Sight failing in half-light
we hear you in hedgerows
scavenging for slugs -
watch you curl into a defensive ball
just like you do in your hibernation
when breathing almost stops....

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Spring has come at last!
Earth wakes from her winter slumber, 
To live again.
Signs of resurrection are all around –
Green shoots sprouting,
Blue skies,
Twittering birds in hedgerows –
Winter clad, now in summer anticipation –
Puts by all notions of misery and dull care.
The joys of spring abound!
No cares, no worries…..
Life has begun
Again....

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Mud cracks its teeth.
Roots crunch and seep
a stored sunlight. 
There are open veins
under wet sods.

We are conveyed above the melt
on guttering rapids
through the narrows
of squelching hedgerows
toward the drumming
of new-sprouted stems.

Winter thaws in hollows,
pushes heat into slick droplets
for the sip and swallow
of greening throats....

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Buttercup,daisy and cowslip
Together mix in fellowship;
Swaying pelts of grasses fine
Bask in Spring sunshine.

Purple vetch,ribwort plaintain
Jostle lush clover in English rain;
Scalious,burnets protude,
Butterflies gorge their pollen food.

Hawthorn dense and tough
Amidst sweet scented woodruff;
In rambled briar sprawl
Prickly and wandering tall....

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