Wild thing
Sting sing
Green edge
Poison hedge
Don’t touch
Too much
Pain lane
Sits here

In front of my window
Nettles grow
‘Keep away,’ they say
But butterflies come
And we have soup
From these sharp, green plants.

Wasps come
Clean up
Clear nature
For others
But in lazy days
They want sweet
They want meat
And plague us
With their buzzing threat.

Bees, we love bees
Because of honey
But they sting
Brrrr ‘keep away,’ they say
Buzzing with their
Black and yellow warning

We need things that sting
The nettles that feed the butterflies
The wasps that clean nature’s cupboard
The bees, the bees that pollinate everywhere
Without them
No life

So sing, ‘sting!’
And rejoice in that poison thing.