I haven’t read much poetry, or written any since I was at school, learning to recite ‘Little Trotty Wagtail’. Our creative writing group teacher asked us to write a poem based on an experience which we remember differently to how it actually happened.
My mind immediately went to a memory I have, which happened on my first ever camping holiday with my parents. I must have been very young. My father woke me up in the night to tell me Moldy Warp the mole was outside, and took me out to watch a mole who had broken the surface of his mole hill. My mum used to read the wonderful Alison Uttely books of Little Grey Rabbit to me, and Moldy Warp the mole was a character from them, with beautiful watercolour paintings by Margaret Tempest. I recently asked my Facebook followers if they too had memories of the Little Grey Rabbit books, and the response was huge. It would seem lots loved them, apart from Pauline, who thought Little Grey Rabbit was ‘a bit wet’ (which did make me laugh).
I must have gone back to bed and dreamt about Moldy Warp, because even now, in my mind’s eye, I can remember seeing a little mole with a silver spade, pipe in mouth, and velvet waistcoat, digging.
Here is my poem. I hope you like it. It’s pretty simple, but it’s a start. I’m really looking forward to learning more about writing poetry when I go to Newcastle University in September to do my MA. I applied for my student loan today, so I’m another step closer!
“Hush, come quietly!
There’s something you need to see”
Scooped up in father’s strong embrace
Bleary eyed and half asleep.
Out of the tent
And across the field,
Blanket wrapped tight around me.
A small crowd has gathered
Watching in silence,
Torches pointing to the ground
Where the earth shifts
Fine tilth and dark soil
A little mole is digging.
Velvet waistcoat and purple scarf
Silver spade and pipe in mouth,
It’s Moldy Warp the Mole!
By Sue Reed