Patiently beside the road he’ll wait,
To cross in safety at a scurrying gait,
The tarmac strip he must cross over,
This little chap, the hedgerow rover,
Relatives by the score have tried,
But sadly most of them have died,
Beneath wheels of a car or truck,
A prickly mess that ran out of luck,

He listens and looks, no sound, no light,
Hurrying to sanctuary, best speed from fright,
Not wanting to be another bloody patch,
He scampers across, as if at Brands Hatch,
Breathless but safe on the other side,
Vanishes into undergrowth, a place to hide,
Motorists please watch out, be ready to react,
So our friend the hedgehog, can remain intact.