Pause For Poetry:
Michael Hawkes /93

In Praise of Weeds

June 9, 2025

A poem by Michael Hawkes

It seems the weeds are winning out
On my humble patch of earth.
It’s not the lack of management
But my socialistic temperament
That gives them all a berth.

Buttercups in garden spaces
And dandelions’ sunlit faces
Have a glory all their own…
The vetch and dock and thistles thrive
And briars strive to overwhelm them all.

Tho’ daisies, bluebells and trilliums abound
To cover every inch of ground
In winters and summers, in the spring and in the fall.

It is often called ‘rewilding’
when nature’s left alone,
Tho’ some say it’s backsliding
when the garden’s overthrown.

But when witnessing the weeds and grasses,
The vigour of their growth
Surpasses any gardener’s delight;
To see the daily change in height
And windblown puff-balls take to flight
Is to see life flourish – with an order over all.

Honouring these underclasses
Of uncultivated sun-kissed masses
Of rampant weeds and unmown grasses
Is more than many can…

Tho’ in all but few climactic zones
The weeds succeed if left alone,
And not a one gets overgrown…
Oh, were it so with man!

04/06/22 – Hawkes

Feature image: Susanne Jutzeler – Pexels

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