Coniston Poem by Paul Reed

Between the trees, at the edge of the road
There lies a secret cove
Where rosebay willow herb entangle their feet
Enticing us to rove;

There is a tree with a low bough
Overhanging the waters to rake
It's leaves through the endless lapping
Waving to wooded slopes over the lake;

Where warm sun-drenched pebbles lie drunken,
Begging kisses from the foamy crests;
Where serenity gradually convinces us
That today has passed all it's tests;

That all we wished for has been found here
And those hopes that we dreamed to recruit
Are just lying in wait for us tomorrow
And that the future will follow suit.