The Wheatear’s Moss – Cara Ruth Woodhouse Fraser
A footstep muffled, echoes slightly,
Silence answers only.
A word is whispered,
Water stirs, a skater moves, so slightly
A splash sounds, stillness is broken, and the sound is soft yet brutal.
Bounding away are deer, never heard.
An intruder moves so boldly,
Bog cotton flickers, like candles at dusk,
Daring all to move closer,
Cradling the heath, cross leaved and all,
Alas the intruder has wandered.
Wind picks up, ascend do the martins,
Mushrooms, all gloom, are enticing,
The intruder reaches forward, his fingers meander,
Murky is water below.
Blankets of moss have hidden their secrets,
Summoning all to their death.
Dead not decayed they’ve lain awaiting,
With histories untold, destined most certain, it’s yet to enlighten,
The darkness is most absolute.
Air and wind are scented with richness, earthy and moist is foliage,
Thick and watery is peat,
And that dripping marsh, remains so cold, to grip, with hand.
Moving upwards, the martins swoop, swallows sweep,
And the swifts they dance.
Down in marsh and bog, that darkness, mirrors face,
A frivolous figure’s entranced, he stumbles,
And as the swallows above cry,
Moss hag engulfs a wandered soul.
The moss fir lies flaccid, limp and wet.
Dark is water,
Trembles does the grass,
Waiting is the sundew,
Flickers does the light,
Hunting is damsel,
Shivers does the bird,
Basking is the snake,
The moss awoke, now it lies in wait.
The trees will ever trespass; the intruders will always come,
The peat will ever preserve, the respectful will always
Leave,
And I will ever watch and dart, as the otters pass on by.
The moss will never be lost,
And will forever,
Deceive.
Touching the Void – Linna Monteath
There are times
when time itself falls away:
there are no words
to net this feeling.
Lying on a highland moor
on a clear winter’s night
you are wrapped in stars
and your mind starts the journey
outwards,
reeling,
trying to grasp infinity.
So it is with Flanders Moss
at the edge of time itself:
deepness takes hold,
the fragile strength of sphagnum
floats
on aeons of peat past
and pulls you under,
sinking in silence
to be in the old world.
Sunlight and Peat – Suzanne Humphris
I use sunlight over and over again.
I fix it and mix it with rain
To form my water filled self.
I absorb light and take it with me
To use it over and over again
I am going downwards, far from the sun,
but I am formed of its energy.
I am taking the sun with me.
I have it stored within me
To use it over and over again.
I am breaking down with my neighbours.
Down, to become thick dark fuel
We are in the dark.
We become the dark
And use light over and over again.
2 bogs, a swamp and some islands 