A rolling stone can gather no moss
But that’s simply not true for the Stones of Moss Koss.
Each one moves around like a pea on a plate
Like a wandering minstrel, late for a date.

It rolls like an eye in a hurricane’s grip
Like a soft juicy orange squeezed for its pip.
The Stones of Moss Koss will never stand still
And yet they’re as hairy as the hilliest hill.

They sprout from the tip
They sprout from the top
They sprout from the holes where frogs like to hop.
You’re surprised there are frogs in the Stones of Moss Koss?

Well I’ll tell you the why, I’ll tell you because.
They sleep in the holes, the hairiest holes
And they sleep with the spiders and watery voles.
These creatures all nest in the weedy old moss
As the stones roll around and circumferencely toss.

They lie in the grass like a blanket or coat
And gather the wind in an open-mouthed throat.
So no wonder, no while, no surprise for a mile
That the Stones of Moss Koss grow hairy and smile
As they roll through the hills and collapse in a pile.

Dom Conlon - @dom_conlon