Secret Stream Poem by Paul Reed

The sun baked hard the grassy slopes,
Placed burning light on shoulders,
Ripening red the strawberry rows
Under their green verandas
As they slept on beds of straw;
Gooseberry thorns hardened their stare
Took revenge on prying fingers
Probing for bitter fruit;
All the while,
Hidden behind the edges of the fields,
A secret stream ran in shaded caresses
Through leaf-laden passages
Listless under the hanging branches
And frittered the time away;
No-one knew of it’s tranquil journey
It’s continual slumbering between stalky banks
That waved careless farewells
To it’s watery course;
And as the sun grew in it’s height
The shade deepened in response
And defied the glare
Until the evening and the sun slunk away.