Juniper

[Verse 1] Upon the windswept heaths, where soil is thin and poor, Or clinging to the limestone, it stands forevermore. The juniper, an evergreen, with needles sharp and small, A fragrant, ancient presence, enduring through it all. Its form can be a low-spread shrub, or spire that points on high, A testament to resilience, beneath the open sky. The scale-like, prickly leaves, a deep and sombre green, Release a pungent aroma, a scent both sharp and keen. (Sharp and kee-ee-een) [Verse 2] The cones, a bluish-black when ripe, with waxy, frosted bloom, Take many seasons turning, escaping winter's gloom. A vital food for birds and beasts, across the barren land, Their aromatic essence, by distillers close at hand, Is sought to flavour spirits, with a taste both dry and clean, A signature of gin, a flavour widely seen. Its wood, though slow of growth, is fragrant, hard, and fine, For crafting small, fine objects, with a beauty that will shine. (will shi-i-ine) [Verse 3] A plant of ancient lineage, it has witnessed ages turn, Upon the open moorland, where few other species learn To thrive in such harsh conditions, beneath the sun and rain. A symbol of endurance, through hardship and through pain. Its presence on the uplands, a marker stark and bold, A story of survival, in landscapes stark and cold. So let us mark its steadfastness, its fragrance in the air, The juniper, a survivor, beyond compare. (An evergreen survivor)