Mike Dailey Poet Rhyme

A Country Creek

A Country Creek

A country creek in January
It looks so cold, it’s almost scary
The banks are dusted with the snow
The ice impedes the water’s flow
The trees are bare, no sign of life
The wind cuts through you like a knife
The sky is gray, the sun won’t shine
It’s not a favorite site of mine
But a country creek in early June
Is a place I’d like to visit soon
The banks are plastered with footprints
The water flows, in fact it sprints
The trees are green and full of birds
The wind now carries nature’s words
The sky is blue, the sun shines bright
If I could stay there, I just might

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John Fleming January 5, 2015 at 1:29 PM Very nice, Mike! Reminds me when my father was alive and we would go fly fishing together in Scotland...ahhh happy days! :) john. Mike Dailey January 5, 2015 at 1:30 PM I was inspired by a beautiful picture a friend posted on the web. I have never gone fly fishing but I have been to Scotland and I loved the scenery there. Thanks for the compliment on the poem.