Silver tipped it bubbles
Through rocky, shallow twists,
Turns left, then right, then left again
Its voice a gentle lilt.
Suddenly it drops ten feet or more
Then sets a dashing pace
Till, resting in a quiet pool
It finds a quiet space.
Now deep within its solemn depths
A requiem it makes
Then drifts through endless darkness
In this forbidding place -
But suddenly a waterfall
Sucks it back to life,
Its quiet death of solitude
Now turn to noise, yes strife!
Through narrow turns, yes winding ways
It quickly leaps - now hides
But then is lost forever
In the rivermouth so wide!
Joe Hughes visit joehughes.org.uk
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-river-58/
