Heather (A Poem)

I spread my roots in the places

yet to be trodden,

taking comfort in the tranquillity

awaiting August, when I truly come to life;

when the sky sheds its mask of clouds

and the sea is reflected on its face

a delicate beauty blooms from within,

encouraged by the gentle touch

of sunlight

transforming the landscape

into a blanket of amethyst

painting the canvas of silhouetted wheal houses

scattered on the edge of the cliffs

like them, my roots run deep

but as they crumble;

a livelihood swallowed up

by the passing of time,

I return, year after year

growing from

bitter frost

scorching wildfires;

the unpredictable moods

of the passing seasons

soon, winter will return,

I’m already beginning to see the warning signs

the sun and moon

changing shifts a little faster

and that ocean breeze

growing less friendly

with each passing day

but do not fear –

for soon enough,

the sun will rise over the cliffs;

and in the fields of gorse and thistles,

a mass of young, purple flowers

will raise their hopeful heads once more

and gaze upon the gentle haze

of a Cornish morning

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Author's note: I originally wrote this as a commission for the wonderful girls over at The Wandering Heath group. Unfortunately their Cornish-influenced poetry and art anthology was never published due to funding issues. I wish them all the love and luck in the world for their future endeavours, and hope to publish this poem in the future alongside other work inspired by our beautiful county.