There where nature
manufactures an outfall,
drop by drop,
a river is born...
The natural history,
covers the sands of tempo,
under the water
hidden...
Before eyes
who only sight,
what wet feet
step on...!
Categories:
outfall, allegory, allusion, humanity, metaphor,
Form: Light Verse
Down washpit lane then cross the cut,
smell woolwax scour and brimstone soot.
By sluicegate stream where outfall go
watch foamflush merge with virgin flow.
Pass tall stone stack of massive mill.
Up gasworks lane with coaltar smell.
Beneath the bridge of blackbright brick.
Through tenterfield of frame and hook,
and wuzzing’oles in walls all round.
Now leave man's alchemy behind
and walk in splendid rural scene.
Breathe sweetest air; see brightest green.
It was a world of stark contrast.
But now, just memories of the past.
Categories:
outfall, places,
Form: Rhyme