Nettles' flowers

By Nicholas Hooper

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!



About Dawnings:
“Every morning at around 5am I get up and go down to my studio. After a short meditation I write down whatever is in my head, giving myself fifteen minutes to do so. Then moving over to the piano (or a more portable instrument like my Ukulele when I'm away), I improvise and record a piece of music inspired by whatever words I just wrote. It is a great way of keeping both my writing and my composing going and I call these small creations Dawnings. They are mostly unedited, like sketches, so that they keep that fresh feeling of an early morning discovery.”

— Nick Hooper