I was attracted to water
When I was but a young boy
Whether it was a rippling stream
Or a slow drifting river
Even lakes silently calm
Where I'd be on most weekends
My nearest water close home
Midst of trees whispering on
Was where I'd go out to hide
With birds chirping in their nests
Which silent came as I came
'Til they knew I was a friend
As the sun arced high in the sky
And butterflies glided around
I wished too that I had wings
In azure sky flying high
Arcing over hills and bends
Leaves settling on surface day's end
Image found at www.pixabay.com
I’m there with you in the shore taking in all the sights. Wonderful job of capturing the moments and bringing the reader along.
ReplyDeleteWhether it was a rippling stream
ReplyDeleteOr a slow drifting river
When 'rippling'is mentioned a 'water'poem naturally is invoked. Wonderful throw-back to childhood. Robin!
Hank
We desert-dwellers are attracted to water too, but it's not as easy for us to find as it was for the youthful you!
ReplyDelete