The River Poem by Owen Cullimore

Down the lane not far from home
Across a field where we occasionally roam
There is a river that slowly wends
Along a pace until it bends
It is a bit misty in certain places
In others, you see a reflection of your faces
The wildlife pop along to say hello
Out from the riverbank as you go
The odd fluttering Moorhen or two
Seen to watch just what you do
So as to protect their young chicks
In their nests made of sticks
The river fish scamper about
As they know, someone is about
To them its food that people bring
As into the river bread they fling
Down we walk along the path so still
Sometimes fighting off the winter chill
Or in summer basking out in the Sun
Then everyone is out, it is so much fun
To enjoy an evening stroll it seems
Is part of many a lovers dreams
As arm in arm, they steal a kiss
Our walk is something we never miss