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Rill

Flowing from high Claramore at the foot of Clara hill
Through flatter Claraghatlea the silver tongued rill
In old rushy fields babbling night and day
Flowing to the big river to the sea far away
The cry of the moorhen in the twilight gray
A voice that in memory a lifetime does stay
The past may be gone but the memories of it remain
In moments of reflection for to visit again
The waterways that are so very old in time
Have been the inspiration of song, story and rhyme
In the age of the dinosaurs they were very old
And their age in milleniums remain as untold
In Nature's four Seasons it's voice never still
Flowing to the big river the silver tongued rill.

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Comments (1)

Flowing from high the moment of vision motivates to know more. A brilliant poem is excellently penned.10