Plant Poetry by Markus Hamence – December 2024

Moss don’t care about your boring, restrictive rules,
It grows where it wants at it’s own desier – on rocks, or in pools.
A scrappy patch of green, yellowy or grey neon flair,
Kicking it back in nature’s wild untamed lair.

Clinging to trees like a gangsta’s coat,
Stealing the dappled sunlight without our vote.
It doesn’t shout, doesn’t need a show –
A quiet & steely power, it’s just how it grows.

Rain? Cool? Shade? Sun? Sweet.
It turns scraps of earth into a velvet retreat.
While the world races, it takes its time,
Flipping the bird to the grand design.

So, to moss, that green willed outlaw,
Demolishing the mold with zero flaw.
Next time you see it, give it your nod –
The chillest bad-ass of the sod.

Photo credit: Markus Hamence – Mount Lofty Botanic Gardens