Nettles Comments
My son aged three fell in the nettle bed.
'Bed' seemed a curious name for those green spears,
That regiment of spite behind the shed:
It was no place for rest. With sobs and tears
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When a child the first plant you learned to avoid was a nettle.A very strange name “bed”.the pain of any trauma fades but triggers still bring it back vividly.cutting the nettles Down is just putting a plaster over it you have to dig them out.So many lives lost but life just carried on and came back up. Like the poppies.
this poem brings back memories of when I fell into a bush of nettles and my brother refused to get me out
The great thing about this poem is that most readers can empathise with the pain of a nettle sting and those white bubbling blisters. Who can fail to feel empathy for the young 'son' and his tears. Consider the lexis and imagery of war and your empathy sells for all of the 'young' 'sons' of their countries who died in war. The bubbling blisters provoke imagery of victims of mustard gas. So much going on with this poem. Powerful stuff.
Lollipops are very good and I play beyblades also my favourite beyblades are cosmic Pegasus and gravity destroyer
This is a poem about war - look at the military vocabulary and add in the fact that Scannell was a war deserter and you'll start to see this poem in a different way.
its ok. havent read it yet but looks ok. goodwork i hope you produce more poems like this
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7/19/2025 7:50:32 AM # 1.0.0
This does reflect the war in a nice way but it could of been done so much better