The Nettle Stands Poem by john (called jack) wren

The nettle stands without a care
and smiles at fools who often dare
to try and cast her rudely aside
provoking wrath they cannot hide

It stings you like a dozy bee
disturbed in sleep on the lea
to make skin bubble and boil
sending the mind in utter turmoil

It irritates its helpless host and
makes the docile Dock to boast
of mysterious magic in its leaf
that brings such welcoming relief

Red winged flyers gather pace
to your enticing leaf they race
leaving offspring at your home
until it's time for them to roam