River of Riches

River flows like silver thread, reflecting the dawn sky red. Trees on the banks, sway and yield, Their leaves rustling in the field. As mist lifts, the river glows. A new river no one knows, flows onward, both day and night, ever present, such delight. Hear its gurgle, its babble Learn from its tittle-tattle. For the river knows its way to stay on track, never stray. At sunset, river turns gold, its flow, a sight to behold Its riches gleam all aglow, Meandering to and fro.