Aquarelle

     
The redundant mill-race, mirror smooth,      
slides passed  the twisted wheel ,     
paddles limp ,loose and rotting      
the gates open, water wasting by      
tumbling to the river.      
Willow, reeds and cygnets.     
Kingfishers skim the silent stream      
gliding passed us as we sit,      
flashing reds and blues      
Catching fish for supper      
before the setting sun.      
The dreaming day now closing.      
Doves, cooing love to all      
come to say goodnight.      
So we leave the dewy grass      
To the frogs and snails      
the mill stream to the fish.