Poetic Inspiration from Moss
Moss by Caroline Collingridge
I’m down in the foss
Where the moss child grows.
Where the slime and the mould
And the wind howls and blows.
On the arms of stems green
A marvel to be seen,
The sheen, the keen
Bright eyes that have been.
I’ve known you forever
Before I was born.
On the rocks you clung on
The dusk, night and the dawn.
Tiny tendrils poke out
Bog moss sucks with its snout,
The water, the vapour,
The rain all about.
It stores it, claws it
Down to the bottom
The earth truly sodden
Like mattresses of cotton.
So soft, I would wear you
Make silk garments of blue dew
A crown so majestic
You grew it, who knew?
© C. Collingridge 05.09.22
Caroline is a Plymouth Energy Community (PEC Pals) creative volunteer and has joined us for weekly workshops since mid August. She became so inspired by moss that she wrote a poem which she read out to us on Harford Moor during our visit in October.
