A country craft

In the countryside of old
There was a skill that was worth more than gold
The art of hedge laying, so I've been told
Was a way to shape the land and make it bold

The hedger would take his tools and go
To where the hawthorn and hazel grow
He would cut and bend and weave them so
That they would form a living fence row

The hedge would shelter the crops and sheep
And provide a home for birds to keep
It would blossom in spring and bear fruit in fall
And change its colors with seasons all

The hedger took pride in his work and craft
He knew each hedge by name and shaft
He cared for them as his own kin
And passed his knowledge to his children

But times have changed and hedges fade
The fields are cleared for roads and trade
The hedger's skill is now rare and few
And only seen in books or museums new

Yet still I dream of those days gone by
When hedges lined the hills and sky
And hedgers sang their songs of joy
While shaping nature with their hands so coy.

Pages: 1 2