Standing tall, a metre or more
My nettles finally show their flowers
Begrudging colour, they are pale green
Resisting flamboyance, they are tiny like seeds

But they call, in their ranks, ‘come pollinate me
Don’t mind my sting, these mean flowers are all I have’
But their call is in vain. Only the wind answers!
The moths and butterflies come to eat, not their nectar but their leaves.

And all the while we thought, ‘these useless plants that sting us
Dig them up, throw them away!’ but though they look dull
They bring flying colour to our gardens with butterflies:
The Red Admiral, Peacock and Comma
And don’t forget the moths:
The Small Magpie
Burnished brass
And Spectacle

And don’t forget the nettle soup!