The Blackwood River -edited

[Brownlie]

The Blackwood River


I should love to be the river
that sallies through these hills
and reflects the clouds in silver
ripples ridging. Taste the thrills

of growing wide with winter rain,
rolling around the bends,
flirtation with the bracken fern
and bushes as it wends

and winds its way along the banks
tree-lined, collecting leaves
to move downstream. Then with its thanks
murmured amidst the reeds,

it rushes by the boulders, tickling
the pebbles in its path
with bubbling and trickling,
a noisy streaming bath.

I should love to be the Blackwood
River, (that’ll be my wish)
refreshing anyone I could
and hugging all the fish.

All in all I like this poem, there are a few troachic lines that don't quite fit that scheme but the poem was an enjoyable read.