Tuesday Poem: I was meant to stride through
September 28, 2022
I was meant to stride through armour jingling, a whole orchestra of metal bits, cymbals and triangles. But something made me rest in the still, mushroom strewn wood, dank and smelling like dogs’ paws. Taking off the shiny carapace, I wriggled into the moss, napped, awoke to a gnome stealing gauntlets, to store in some illicit cavern. I decided not to give chase. Let him take what he wanted. Rolling over, my moist pillow seemed to release rich spores imbuing me with memories, indistinguishable from dreams. Before all this striving, all these ventures and clashes, I used to take the time to examine things, the varied feathers of birds, the damp exigencies of the frog. Who knows? In a hundred years someone may find a mossy log shaped a little like a knight, on which an escargatoire of snails pursues the silver quests of their kind, clothed in quiet brown armour of shell. PS Cottier
Any excuse to use the word ‘escargatoire’…
PS Cottier 
I did leave a comment but Word Press won’t let me log in. Fascinating poem. Forests must be full of sleeping knights whose stories persist in the insects and forest floor flora. Love the simile of dog paw and mushroom scent – so.true. M
The comment appeared, thank you! Dog paws are wondrous things, a bit truffle and a bit compost.
I can both feel and smell this poem. It’s a bit like my garden on this rather wet day. I do have an ancient gnome but no knightly remains. I wonder if people do come across bits of rusted armour …not sure if it would last long enough. Love the word escargotoire.
Do you mean a real gnome, or a concrete one? I collect garden gnomes. I recently saw a programme where a medieval sword was excavated, so it happens!