Banks of thorny brambles,
shining blackberries gleam
in the translucent, autumn light.
Fingers already purple-stained,
caught red-handed, picking,
eating the darkly jewelled
wild fruits of this September day.

Jam jars, plastic bags, punnets,
full of dark, woodland fruit.
Mouths, painted that telltale crimson,
show the guilty signs of
the season’s plundered treasure.
Yet, still hidden, secret loot,
like black pearls, hangs unseen
below dark leaves or tantalisingly
out of reach, in the centre
of a tangled, prickly patch.

In the bushes, finches wait, alert,
beady eyes focused on the hidden feast.
Butterflies which savoured summer’s nectar,
feed on the sweet juice of Autumn’s bounty.
Tiny dormice and bolder squirrels,
Carry off their juicy plunder.
Even the old badger roots and scrabbles
through the labyrinth
of twisted, barbed stems.