Poetry

The River

By 1st January 2006December 9th, 2019No Comments

Winter
How fast it runs, the river
After last night’s rains they fell,
The turbulence as it thunders
Is just like the depths of Hell!
Watching the waters rush on by,
The reservoirs to swell,
The beauty of this pandemonium
The world you wish to tell.

Spring
The dragon nymph, flying fast,
Making ripples as it skims.
Oxford and Cambridge have their race
Just to see which one wins.
The salmon chase to spawn upstream
Using their powerful fins,
The river is now full of life
As the breading time begins.

Summer
The flowing of the waters
And the ripples passing by,
The shadows in the depths,
The reflections in the sky.
The darting of the fishes
As the trout it takes the fly,
The squinting up of your face,
As the sun catches in your eye.

Autumn
Its stillness and tranquillity
Upon an autumns night.
The water birds take to the air
To begin their lengthy flight.
The reflections of the moon,
On still waters sheds its light.
The mist as it rolls over waters deep,
Is such a wraithlike sight!

How beautiful is the river
How majestic is its wake
As I stare and loose myself within
My mind and soul it tries to take.
It captures life and natures fruitfulness
A master plan it does forsake
Man has tried to copy it
But you can tell when it’s a fake.

Peter Bruffell

Author Peter Bruffell

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