Hedge ones bets

She came again this morning
The spiny one was here
A Hog living in hedges
Whose description isn’t clear
It really is perplexing
This insect eating soul
Lots of different stories
About how she can control

Things
rolls up into a little ball
Which then becomes a way
Of avoiding the enemy
Who might be around today
She is nothing like a pig though
Seeking out earth worms
Caterpillars and frogs and snakes
A timid beast whose terms

Are much to do with water
Or carrion perhaps
Hunting on the dewy turf
When it’s shadowy and sort of wraps
A bit more like the taste of roaches
All of this seems grim

They like to camp in rabbit holes
Or In a pile of leaves
Getting plumper by the month
Eating it achieves
A Body for hibernation
And all of this believes
In everywhere it goes
It’s honest to good behaviour
In whatever place it flows
It tends to try
And stick awhile
Escape from the chasing one
With a body supply of winter fat
And a disappearing sun

However severe the Winter
It’s hibernation is profound
Looking rather torpid
Lying on the ground
Along with rotting apples
Impaled lightly on its spines
Architecturally on par
Where we all see the signs

It’s nothing like a pig though
It’s a wild life soul
All sorts of ditties come to mind
A sort of mini troll
Sometimes brought indoors I hear
For some rest, that’s true
A bristling fire of coal and log
And chestnuts and a brew
Along with assorted pine cones, and herbal nosegays
We
Toast crusty bread and pickles
And enjoy some matcha tea.