14th July 2020
Truth me the wonder of thistles,
Symphony music of bees;
Agree the perfection of new-thrusting bracken,
Bramble blossom, and storm-shapen trees;
And everything too small to see which is good,
Also, all that is too great to know;
Aught which happens too fast for the eye or the mind,
Or develops too slow for our idea of time;
Colours outside our eyesight, sounds too shrill for our ears,
Life-puzzles we won’t solve in hundreds of years…
What I think that I try to say, black-and-white plain:
Nature’s knowledge mountains tonnage; thistledown is my brain.
© Christopher Jessop 2020
