The Stink That Spoils The Brook Poem by Fiona Sunny

Somewhere from the curve twixt lofty hilltops
Where ev’ry eye sees as ev’ry foot stops
A mighty brook gushes out and slithers down
To gracefully meet the bewildered eyes down

And as it loots the pebbles on its way
To its waves do rotten remains fall prey
It knows not the stench that lies underneath
And the subsiding waves let lily seeds breathe

What beneath the brook may stink
May make what above may float to sink
For what the waves of the tide conceal
In the tide of time, themselves reveal

To ravage the buds – to-be-lily blossoms
Qui’tly beckoning trouble to come –
The stink that wreathes the moist fragrance
Makes way for the admirers’ evanescence

And ev’ry tongue that passes the brook
In plain disgust and anger exclaims –
“Pooh! The pong’s smitten ev’ry nook”
And alas! The mighty brook’s hurled by names.