The Strid
The Strid
Get rid of the Strid with its seething torrent trapped amid the caves
In downward spiral coursing through a web of underwater stone
Oh that the river would have carved a safer way away from occulted potholes
Shame on its dogged passage that prefers the dangerous route
It could have chosen a placid path amid a tranquil retreat
Where solace is found amongst much safer depths
But retain the bowing trees that stand around and cast a shade
With hanging boughs for birds to alight and sing their song
Strange river that aspires to stream again to squeeze into the narrow
A tempting bubbling brook that bluffs its onlooker
Mere stride to other side in gleeful daring
That tests the balance on slippery verge and rock
And Strid becomes the stride to play the waiting game
Thus claim ill fated darers that slip into its frothy forbode
With smothering aqueous wings dragged into caverns
Where infinite to remain and forever retained
In a murky swathe of peaty chambers yet to be discovered
Where amongst its conquests a would be king
Rules amid the Strid’s palatial watery kingdom
Copyright © Rose Johnson | Year Posted 2017
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