A Bushclad Surprise Poem by Thomas Golding
A Bushclad Surprise
Singing water running swiftly
Flowing downward to the valley
Spraying off intrusive stone
Cataract plunging to the bottom
Pool fern shrouded surprise
Natural garden in the forest
Eels waiting in the dark
For a passing trout to feed on
Heads large as clenched fists
Ruthless hunters on the chain
Only predated on by man
Regretfully we turn away
No skinny-dipping in that pool.
Oh you brought this so much to life Tom - - I was so glad yuo didn't skinny-dip but here's a ten for the whole piece - it farly skipped along..... lovely to read of these marvellous hidden places in your country....greetings from Cornwall U.K. and best wishes from Fay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 8:09:36 AM # 1.0.0.1119
It is good that there are places still bush-claded. Otherwise the skinny-dips have polluted every pond of life.