Seasons by the Stream

Inspired by and written for #Writephoto – thank you, KL

At the weekends Lilydog and I get to walk by a woodland stream. It’s a bit of a hike for the old lady, but she loves going there so it is worth it. It is also my sanctuary where I put my thoughts and feelings to rights. I think Lilydog knows that sometimes. With the drought this year it has felt a bit different there, but still a place of tranquillity.

Seasons by the Stream
Form: Free Verse

Winter

Stampeding like horses over
old time-worn rocks
the winter rains unite
with the turbulent white water
surging onward with no place to go
as the floods pool around
an old tree fallen in the storm
we wait as the ducks waddle and waggle
over the bridge by the willow tree
lie a troop of white feathered soldiers
coming to survey the damage
and finding a new place to play
making the most of it
and I nod in understanding
and we cross the bridge
with muddy paws and dirty boots
she’s chasing rabbits in over-watered grass
and I’m making changes in my mind
ready to face the way ahead
making the most of what I have got

Summer

Wilting and thirsty leaves
the stream offers little to drink
barely a trickle ripples slowly around
the once submerged rocks
coated in dried silt
can rocks ever look more sorry for themselves
no rain fall offering solace from the incessant heat
bottled water in a blue fold up bowl
under the limp trails of the willow tree
and the ducks make what they can
of puddled stream water under the bridge
as always teaching us humans to
make the most of it
and we cross the bridge as the sun rises
and Lily can’t be bothered to chase rabbits
as we follow the worn path heading home
between dried brown grass once lush and green
a cloudless sky offers no rain

Yesterday

Rocks glisten beneath the stream water
as autumn colours scatter on the breeze
I sit beneath the willow tree
while Lily paddles and follows the ducks
the mid-day sun just warm enough
for her to have a dip
she climbs up the bank
shaking off so I can share the wet
‘did you find any fish, Lily’
and she’s off to the stream again –
I could be here to dream a while

©JezzieGFarmer2022