Thistles

Uninvited guests taller than the rest
Blew by last year,none to care
Lay sleeping through the winter's night
Unattended, quiet, waiting for the spring.
What will they say, what will they do?
Intruders not always welcome
Far too resilient, adapting to
Our nature’s will
That which locals shun.
 
The soil was heavy, dank, unkind
Few had tried to settle
Leaving spaces, stones, coke
And fish-shop's greasy paper
No one ever looked,
No one to care........
Behind the shop-parade
 Come the spring
No one looked, none to care
The soil green a little here and there
 Locals came alive ,
Struggled and complained,
 Shouting go away,or something stronger
Will do no good.............
 
And now it's summertime.
Prickly leaves expand,
Defend the lovely flower
The scorned comes to its own...
Royal purple an expensive tint
Few compete,pale by odorous comparison
.
The sun beats down, the land is dry,
But thorns and shiny foliage defy the heat
And flower above the crowded shrubs.
A sea of dazzling colour
A month of joy waving to the breeze
To turn to seed and wait for winter,
Feed the autumn gold-finch
To sleep again...........
Through the winter's night.
‘Til, come the spring
The gold finch,sings
Behind the shop parade..