The twofold marriage of cow parsley and hogweed

Cow parsley and hogweed are two common wild plants native to England (though i believe giant hogweed was brought from America) you will find them quite easily along the edges of hedgerows, fields, woods. Right now as my fingers go tappity-tap on the keys cow parsley is out there, defining the fabulous wild weed surge of late spring with her umbrella of dainty white flowers standing atop her slender stem. I can see some right outside my window, cow parsley throngs the land so much its like a host of country maids heading out to the fields for picnics with a multitude of suitors! Cow parsley belongs to the same family as carrots, parsley, parsnip, fennel etc which all share the umbrella-like flowers and long roots. Its leaves are similar to carrot leaves, and possess a bitter-carroty smell to its root. Cow parsley can also be mistaken with hemlock, which grows in damp places and has rather suspicious pink-purple spots on its leaf stem; hemlock is poisonous and in ancient Greece Socrates was executed by the state of Athens with a dose of hemlock. If you snap a leaf off the plant and smell it, it has an unpleasant musty, chemical odour, a bit like industrial tubs of paint.
Cow parsley though is not poisonous, and benign towards humans. Her long root works through heavy soil to bring up nutrients otherwise locked to shallower rooted plants that might struggle to grow without her companionable nutrient-releasing aid.
Here's what Roaring Poet experienced of cow parsely:

Dainty feather leaves,
spring from soil, 
like fine fins of fishes. 
I could pick them, 
and sew them into coat sleeves, 
like lace. 
Picking them, 
they are like parsley leaves,
smell a bit of carrot, 
the leaves get bigger,
seem to overflow each other,
like water bursting out of the ground. 
Then when its time,
for the cows to come out,
you have begun,
to climb on a stalk,
as slender as a carrot,
waving in the wind by the field edge,
or another edge. 
The cows parsley pops out,
her umbrella of frothy flowers,
in merry buttercuppy May, 
like ranks of maids,
strolling out in the sun,
in their best linen smocks. 
Leading the way for the great weed wave,
of summertime, 
which is a lot of fun,
for cow parsley,
to be encouraging on,
with her aerial inspirations. 


Hogweed is also in the same family as cow parsley, and particularly inhabits ground that has been trodden a lot by animals and made hard for other plants to root in. Hogweed is distinctly heavy and coarse in character,    spreading its leaves over the ground in quite a dominating, 'i'm here doing my work' manner. It seems to like growing together with cow parsley, as though its more earthy double. Hogweed as its name suggests, has some connection with pigs and probably in the past it was seen growing where hogs had disturbed the ground or that hogs liked eating its leaves, as hens enjoy eating chickweed and fat hen.
Hogweed is quite bristly and flowers after cow parsley, though never really achieves the same slender heights as its counterpart. Neither are its flowers as lovely and memorable as cow parsley. If you are walking out in the fields and woods and encounter hogweed, it is usually in big rough clumps that will impede your way with their enormous shady leaves. The plant has the same thick-skinned nature as burdock, and reminds me of a group of old farm labourers hanging about having a chinwag (about the cow parsley maids in their white linen).
Here's some hogweed verse:

Cow parsleys brother or stouter sister, 
bristly leaves, 
thick as pig hide, 
likes the good earth, 
keeps spreading leaves,
that shade the ground,
like a pig standing over it. 
But Mr.Hogweed prefers to be in company of cow parsley, 
all heavy and dark, 
the presence of her, 
fluting and lightly leaves,
cheers him up. 
He's a tough often,
not too good at being gentle soul, 
if you risk the muscle-yank, 
of digging him up,
hogweed will dig,
himself deeper,
down with a root,
that sticks sodwise,
a swollen thumb. 
Hogs I believe are the only things alive,
that can persuade him to shift; 
he's so stuck in Mr.Hogweed. 
He gets all fixated, 
on bristly stems, 
and gloomy great leaves,
that are kind of jaggedy. 
His flowers,
are like cow parsley, 
he's trying to understand her loveliness, 
but really his flowers,
are like his leaves; 
heavy as mud,
and his root, 
fat as a fevered gland. 
Its into summer,
by then, 
the flowers around,
him are getting on or dying off: 
Mr.Hogweed comes late to the party everytime. 

Roaring Poet will post some pictures soon of the plants, otherwise go and seek them in the open field