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.