Pyracanthas
You and I are pyracanthasShort sweet blooming seasonWhite tiny single rosesLethal russet thornsThat if any try to penetrateOr stormWill find themselves impaledCut to ribbonsAnd bled beyond savingPoisonous berries to allbut feasts to finches, great tits and crowsTenacious and practically impossible to prune or cutAnd the only way to be ridRead More →