Feet dipped in the river,
flowing like my tears.
Surrounded by fields of daffodils,
I whisper all my fears.
Down by the bridge—
comforting solitude.
Trees of Denlethen woods
chatter in the breeze.
Eagles squawk overhead,
owls hoot their song.
Squirrels scamper, bunnies hop,
deer frolic along.
I loved my space, my solitude—
now overtaken,
by houses and electric fences.
Not such a nice look.
It's been a while, I must confess,
since I went there—
to dip my toes in the flowing stream,
shake cobwebs from my hair.
But in my heart, it will always stay,
a place so profound—
to mend my aching soul,
and fill me with hope unbound.
I wish some things would stay the same,
though seasons have to change.
But now the bridge of solitude
is busied—
and strange.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem