Tuesday, October 4, 2011

The Silver Tongued Rill From The Mountain

The silver tongued rill from the mountain in my flights of fancy i hear
A voice that i have not forgotten to my thoughts remain ever near
On down to the flatter green country by many a ditch and hedgerow
To join with the ocean bound river with a babble it ever does flow

From it's source in the lake by the mountain it flows through the bracken clad glen
A home to the silver finned minnow and dipper and dark water hen
It babbles on downhill forever through the fields of the rook and gray crow
On and on through the very old country through damp fields where the hardy rush grow

I see and hear it in my visualizations to the big river babbling along
By old groves by rural bungalow and cottage a home for the wild birds of song
In a voice that has never been silent to the river to the ocean shore
The rill from the lake by the mountain will babble on forever more

It roars aloud after the big rains and races down the higher ground
And backed up by the flood in the river in water submerge the fields nearby around
But when the brown flood has passed onwards in the damp fields by the old town
The silver tongued rill from the mountain to the big river babbles on down.

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