The Common Thistle 



Robert Sparks Walker 



I've traveled long, I've traveled far, 

 My army keeps me out of war! 

 From Europe years ago I hailed, 

 And not one effort mine has failed! 



A standing one to four feet high, 

 I'm easy to identify; 

 My stem so stout that grows upright, 

 By country roads, in fields delight. 



My narrow, white leaves, spiny grow, 

 Clasps hairy stems an inch or so, 

 With prickly wings with hairs on top, 

 And lower webby-woolly crop! 



The flow'r envelope with spines, 

 My tube-shaped florets it confines; 

 A slender cluster all compact, 

 Keeps my magenta flow'r intact. 



My fragrant flow'r with pollen white, 

 Three inches broad, a pleasant sight, 

 To butterflies and bumblebees, 

 Who often go on drunken sprees! 



Now why so many spines? you ask; 

 And why I wear a prickly mask? 

 To beat the foes that me attack. 

 Else my species would go to rack! 



June to September on stem ends, 

 My flowers meet both foes and friends; 

 "Now if you grab, I'll make you whistle!" 

 Is rule and law of Common Thistle! 



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