Number 7, What Can You Say About a Hedge?

Number 7.

What Can You Say About a Hedge?

Henry was a hedge by the side of the road,
Bashed about the ears by every wide load.
He had a good haircut once or twice a year,
But watched the trucks approaching with a fair amount of fear.

You see, the trouble was, he was rooted to the spot,
And couldn’t move an inch although he wanted to a lot!
He stayed in one place, exactly where he’d growed,
Even though a lot of him was half out in the road.

Tractors and trailers loaded up with straw,
Squeezed along beside him and made him rather sore.
Then the combine harvester poked him in the eye;
Henry winced and suffered it, each time they went by.

On his other side was a lovely green lawn,
Which the children of the Manor House liked to sit awn.
They all had fun and showed off to the vicar,
While the grown ups drank sherry and stronger forms of liquor.

Benson the gardener was very conscientious,
While his boss was thoughtless, and also quite pretentious.
He had a mind to make the hedge look like castle walls,

With battlements and at each end a plinth with giant balls!

The gardener wouldn’t cut the hedge until another day,
When the birds had left their nests and mostly flown away.
Henry was relieved for sure and hoped that he would find
That by the time the birds had gone, the boss would change his mind.

Nonetheless he always liked to get a decent trim,
And have the chance for Benson to recover things from him.
He was always filling up with rubbish thrown from cars,
And a trimming helped to clean him up and get rid of his scars.

Come the end of summer when the leaves began to fall,
Henry got his trim and stood as tidy as a wall.
Battlements forgotten he was level as a ruler;
Trimmings on the compost heap and feeling somewhat cooler.

The children no longer spent time playing in the garden,
And several heavy frosts had made the ground harden.
The wind made Henry shiver as it whistled right through,
Taking leaves away with it every time it blew.
 

One icy day two teenagers, driving in a car,
Came tearing round the corner, too fast by far.
They skidded on the icy road and consequently crashed
Right into Henry, who was really badly bashed.

One lad got a broken nose, the other just a fright,
But both of them scarpered off, and they could run alright!
The car was a write off, and was left stuck where it was;
It stayed there so long that it started growing moss.

Henry was fed up with it, and wished they’d come and take it,
Part of him was quite a mess and needed time to make it
Whole again and handsome, as he hoped he’d be,
By the time that spring came round again; he’d have to wait and see.

Christmas came and went and so did some snow,
But six weeks later someone finally came to tow
The bashed up car and take it to the dump;
Henry was thrilled to be rid of the rusty lump.

The rest of the winter there was not much he could do
To cover up the hole which the children now crawled through.
But once the spring arrived new leaves began to grow,
And Henry felt much better now the damage didn’t show.

Now you’d think there wasn’t much you could write about a hedge,
Except to say how thick it is from edge to edge,
How high it is in certain points, or low enough to leap,
But Henry is just long enough to help you off to sleep!

© Stephen Saunders

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