Merry Hedgehog Moons: A prickly poem

Have you ever wondered what hedgehogs get up to when night falls? Our volunteer, David Merry, has written a lovely poem about a fun-filled hoggy celebration.

Hedgehogs sleep and snore their way through wintertime, hidden away from frost and winter’s clime. Don’t be sorry when you hear them snore, for before Christmas falls, Sumptuous Mother Hedgehog calls and delicious wishes come true, under many a merry moon.

Illustration of a hedgehog in a full moon

© Rufus M-C

Under a blue moon strewn with plenty
They gather on the wold where stands the oak,
So sacred, so old.

In best party prickles they greet familiar faces,
And enjoy hearty hugs with all the best graces.

Hogs love party snacks of crunchy bugs and slimy slugs
While telling erstwhile tales, scrunching scrumpy and fruity ales.

E.B. Hog mixes the decks with the five flea jive,
The prickly paw and the beehive dive.

Illustration of hedgehogs dancing at a disco under a full moon

© Rufus M-C

Then, they toast like kings the finer things wondrous Mother Hedgehog brings.

Illustration of an owl standing on a twig in front of a full moon

© Rufus M-C

Old Owl looks on, wishing he was fresh-fledged and bright-eyed again.
To-whit and to-woo, to glide on starlight nights again…
I think I do too.

Moonbeams fade and Old Owl knows its dawn, alas.
He hoots, "Tu-whit, tu-whoo, time alas,
"Tu-whit, tu-whoo, the long lonely day alas".

Under a Harvest moon, strewn with plenty,
They gather on the wold where stands the oak,
So sacred, so old.

Wondrous platters of apples for all,
Scrumptious crunchy things that crawl.
Above the merry din Old Father Hog recalls old wold fables.

Illustration of a hedgehog sitting on a log with a glass of wine

© Rufus M-C

They toast like kings the finer things
That wondrous Mother Hedgehog brings,

And do fantastical things in paper hats,
Roam home like acrobatical alley cats
To find their stockings lined with treats
Of squirmy worms, and buggy eats.

It’s time to greedily eat until bellies go pop…
Eating and eating ‘til life goes flop.
Til’ fatter and fatter… life slows… to a sleepy… stop.

All hedgehogs set their clocks to ring
For one darling minute to spring.
Before the frost moon they rest their heads,
In beds away from winters sway.

Illustration of a hedgehog sleeping in a pile of leaves

© Rufus M-C

Lost to an enchanted sleep
They sleep and snore and sleep some more,
Until the worm moon is hung over Hedgehog Wood
and spring is sprung once more.

In the spring if you should see a hung over hog, I make this plea: greet them with treats to eat and then just let them be. Watching agog the wondrous wild hog, you’ll be beguiled like me. For as you see, I too fell under the spell of the fantastical hedgehog.