At My Garden End
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There is a river at my garden
end, where among the reeds birds sing
melodious songs filling shadows; and
the white lilies float and spin, twirling.
This rolling river has a whisper on its
long winding path that in time pours,
into the sea- oh, that deep unknown!
For rivers cannot just flow forever . . .
but, at my gardens end- I linger, linger
meandering in the shallows by the shore;
where I feel the great pull of the current,
and from the thrushes ducklings drift.
________________________________
November 29, 2016
Poetry/Verse/At My Garden End
Copyright Protected, ID 16- 1113-968-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Feb Wk 1 Standard Contest
sponsor, Brian Strand
First Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2019
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