MY SECRET RIVER
Its source some distance from its end, highlands.
A little trickle meanders a mile.
Pure, full of many forms of life, no fish!
Now babbles over rocky ground, the brook,
widening, now with banks, sticklebacks, the fish.
Water still pure, a stream has formed, o joy.
Its banks not high, festooned with flowers, joy.
Now some miles from its source in the highlands.
A sunny summers day, the stream with fish,
high banks, kingfishers nesting every mile.
Faintly, on calm days, hark the babbling brook.
Approaching river size, otters swim with fish.
Still growing, flowing fast, the herons fish.
Through wonderland, glades and glens, total joy!
From a trickle to sticklebacks, a brook.
The stream now some ten miles from the highlands,
river now formed, splendour, mile after mile!
Rapids, mini falls, salmon, what a fish!
Aquatic life amazing, birds and fish.
Anglers banned, this river no strife for fish!
A wildlife sanctuary, a smile a mile,
how I wish wildlife could smile their joy.
Walked its length, the sweet call of the highlands.
Several miles upstream, distant is the brook.
Its source a memory, likewise the brook.
The stickleback such a dainty, cute fish,
must move downstream, cold the winter highlands.
All memories for me, the birds and the fish!
Fishing with just a worm, much childhood joy.
Frail now, lucky if I can walk a mile.
Collect smiles in my camera, mile on mile.
My favourite smile, the babbling tiny brook,
gurgling, rapping, o so full of joy.
Then I remember, salmon, what a fish,
its leaping rapids, such power in a fish.
Tonight again I'll dream the highlands.
The highlands, many secret trickle mile,
some fish were found in the cool babbling brook.
The fish found downstream o what pure joy
Copyright © Mick Talbot | Year Posted 2018