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Unpigeonholed

by Norman Gale
Gale, Norman (1862-1942)

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51

[Come brooming, Children! We shall go]

Come brooming, Children! We shall go
Across our common to the show
Of gold that soon, from tangled sod,
Will fashion purses, pod by pod,
Obeying God.
Broom dressed in glory! While we move
Toward our favourite, let us prove
Ourselves affectionate to weeds,
Their stature, leafage, flowering, seeds,
In lanes and meads.
Dead Nettles can in grace compare
With any bloom, however fair.
Enchanted, count by twos and threes
The snow-white imitation bees
That cling to these.
How well they note in turfy schools
The everlasting set of rules
Drawn up for them, and, doing thus,
Without the fault of human fuss,
Admonish us!
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