Like the water in a mountain stream
In flood it drowns the weak and very young
In drought we can explore its bed and dream
The limestone around Alston’s very clean
And in the little river stones are flung
It’s water in a new born mountain stream
Dry river beds in Teesdale are pristine
The dark hills threaten as they overhang
In drought, we can explore, find stones and dream
But much of Pennine land remains unseen
The steepness,wildness ,blackness darkly sing
Like the currents in a flung down stream
In rare heat, bare feet are river clean
The hot stones make a flat seat on the bank
In drought, we can explore or view the scene
In love the mind will savour and then thank
The world of nature into which it sank
Unlike the water in a mountain stream
If our mind runs slower it better dreams
How my heart sings 
i like this write
good vocabulary
the limestone
stones being flung
a new born mtn. stream just popping right out of the hill side
the overhang makes me think of green moss dangling everywhere
well penned
excellent poem
Thank you.I don’t get many comments so I am pleased you mentioned specific things you liked as that is very useful to me.Thank you again.Katherine
i hardly ever get comments on my blog either, so when i stop to read anything i always comment lol.
I look forward to visiting you soon.
Reblogged this on How my heart sings.