Sunday, 7 October 2012


A poem I wrote earlier.


I have seen life as a stream pass by,
Have watched its changing moods-
Its high and angry waters when a storm
Brims it with growing haste;
Its gentle ripple when on summer days
Lazy of purpose it takes time
To chatter with each pebble on its bed,
And with delighted gurgles tease
The larger stones.

I have seen life as a stream pass by
Unhurried to the sea;
Its earlier impatience on the hills
Lost now in calm, for here
The sharp-scored crags of former history
Have given place to meadow land,
Wide-banked and civilized, and quiet,
The tranquil final stage that sees
The traveller home.

I have seen life as a stream pass by
And I have heard its song,
And mirrored on its surface known the sky
Sun-lit the whole day long...
Vicarious, painful pleasure this, for me,
For I desire what cannot be,
Desire, desire - and see the stream go by,
Leaving me prisoner here, quite dry,
Upon its bank.