Near the Chiltern hills the River Lea

Dances like a lamb in spring,in glee

The water’s pure and sweet like wine, like sun

But all is changing as the river runs.

Industrial use and boats pollute the stream

The dirty water does not mirror dreams

At Hoddesden the mill destroys the scene

There are no Argonauts, no golden fleece.

At ancient Waltham  where the river  slows

I see the ruined monks,where did they go?

King Henry wanted money,wanted all

Soon  so soon,his dynasty would fall.

Then soon the Lea will meet the mother Thames

They run into the sea, the rivers end.

Is this the mystic love that some would like?

In the darkest shadow, hides the light.

When its moment comes the golden gleam

Returns our minds to nature and it’s schemes

Startled by the lilac of the sky
More blue dilutes the pink I saw before
Dark branches stand like fingers pointing high

The little bay tree potted is too dry
I gave it drops of tea but it needs more
Entranced by  softest lilac ,oh, the sky

I see two trees have grown like Russian spies
They got stuck in and blossomed then I saw
Dark branches,unboned fingers pointing high

Elderberry,cherry, seeds  have strayed
Don’t tell us that  green Nature may have flaws
Enhanced by  lilac , darkening, goodbye

Soon will come the ending and the prayer
The drama is all done, if any care.
Dark branches ,boneless fingers, pointing high

We may live, but God it is that stares
Like the Langdale Pikes watch Windermere
Down beneath the  silence of the sky
Dark branches stand like judges  from on high

 

 

 

 

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/mythos

A pattern of beliefs expressing often symbolically the characteristic or prevalent attitudes in a group or culture

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