"Tall Nettles" and "Nettles"

"Tall Nettles" and "Nettles"

Poem

"Tall Nettles"

by Edward Thomas

Tall nettles cover up, as they have done

These many springs, the rusty harrow, the plough

Long worn out, and the roller made of stone:

Only the elm butt tops the nettles now.

This corner of the farmyard I like most:

As well any bloom upon a flower

I like the dust on the nettles, never lost

Except to prove the sweetness of a shower.

Chosen by Gillian Clarke

"Nettles"

for Edward Thomas

No old machinery, no tangled chains

of a harrow locked in rust and rising grasses,

nor the fallen stones of ancient habitation

where nettles feed on what we leave behind.

Nothing but an old compost heap

warmed to a simmer of sickly pungency,

lawn clippings we never moved, but meant to,

and can't, now, because nettles have moved in,

and it's a poet's words inhabit this.

And, closer, look! The stems lean with the weight,

the young of peacock butterflies, just hatched,

their glittering black spines and spots of pearl.

And I want to say to the dead, look what a poet sings

to life: the bite of nettles, caterpillars, wings.

Stinging Nettles

Poets

Green, perennial weed

Can grow up to 2 metres tall in the summer, dormant in the winter

Green leaves, that are serrated at the edges- covered with stinging hairs

Square green stems, covered with stinging hairs

Edward Thomas

British Poet:

• Referred to as a war poet
• Many of his poems blends and shift between meditative recollections of his beloved countryside and his experiences in battle
• Strong presence in the writing world
• Ted Hughes (poet)- "father of us all"

Poems

“If anything explains the continuing appeal of his poems, it’s probably that Thomas seems to have no clear idea of what he’s doing or where’s he’s going; the effort is all. Many of the poems feature a first-person narrator who is tramping along, overlooked by others, a visitor in the landscape, passing by beguiling streams and fields, often in the rain, listening to much thrush-song and ‘parleying starlings’ and ‘speculating rooks’" -Ian Samson

• Very hard to control
• Native to Europe and Asia, but can now be found anywhere with a temperate climate
• Found growing on waste ground, in hedgerows, along roadsides, field edges and grassy places
• Many uses- can be made into thread, linen, ropers, sail cloth, twine, fishing nets and paper
• Abundance of medicinal uses

Poets

Gillian Clarke

"Tall Nettles"

by Edward Thomas

Tall nettles cover up, as they have done

These many springs, the rusty harrow, the plough

Long worn out, and the roller made of stone:

Only the elm butt tops the nettles now.

This corner of the farmyard I like most:

As well any bloom upon a flower

I like the dust on the nettles, never lost

Except to prove the sweetness of a shower.

"Nettles"

for Edward Thomas

No old machinery, no tangled chains

of a harrow locked in rust and rising grasses,

nor the fallen stones of ancient habitation

where nettles feed on what we leave behind.

Nothing but an old compost heap

warmed to a simmer of sickly pungency,

lawn clippings we never moved, but meant to,

and can't, now, because nettles have moved in,

and it's a poet's words inhabit this.

And, closer, look! The stems lean with the weight,

the young of peacock butterflies, just hatched,

their glittering black spines and spots of pearl.

And I want to say to the dead, look what a poet sings

to life: the bite of nettles, caterpillars, wings.

Welsh Poet*

National Poet of Wales

The Welsh landscape is a shaping force in her work, together with recurring themes of war, traditionalism, womanhood and the passage of time

"Wonderful poems excite me and poetry speaks in the world we inhabit. Edward Thomas’s poem, ‘Tall Nettles’, spoke to me every time I passed the nettle patch in our garden, reminding me that I should cut them down, yet somehow saying, ‘Don’t do it’. When the caterpillars appeared all over the nettles, hundreds of them, and became peacock butterflies, I knew they were saved by poetry. ‘And I want to say to the dead, look what a poem sings to life: the bite of nettles, caterpillars, wings.’" -Gillian Clarke

*Also a playwright, editor, translator, tutor and story-teller, and sheep farmer!