At the End of My Garden
There is a river at my garden
end, where amongst the reeds birds sing
melodious songs filling shadows,
and the golden lilies float and spin.
The rolling river has a murmur,
on its long winding path that in time
pours into the sea- the deep unknown.
Rivers cannot just flow forever!
But at my gardens end, I linger
walking in the shallows by the shore.
I feel the great pull of the current,
then from the thrushes sweet ducklings drift.
________________________________
November 29, 2016
Poetry/Verse/At the End Of My Garden
Copyright Protected, ID 11 853-880-29
All Rights Reserved, 2016, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, River Line
sponsor, Rick Parise, Judged 12/2016
First Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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