POEMS ABOUT

OUR NATURAL WORLD

By Josie Whitehead

THE ROVING RIVER

By Josie Whitehead

Roving River (The)

My father was the driving rain

     And my mother was the moor.

My birthplace was the heathered hills -

     A stunning place, for sure.

 

My itching feet were keen to move

     Far from this tranquil scene:

Enthusiastic in my search

     To seek out pastures green.

 

I trickle down the moorside steep

     To join another stream,

And now we both will surge ahead –

     A single-minded team.

 

Past fields of quietly grazing cows;

     Past flocks of drowsing sheep;

Past houses, villages and towns

     Our busy waters sweep.

 

Through cities where those lofty spires

     Reach up to touch the clouds,

And universities for man

     Stand illustrious and proud.

And now, with ships upon our backs,

     We labour to the sea

Where embracing waves and ocean tides

     Stretch out their arms to me.

 

It's here my waters are consumed

    By the sea's rapacious thirst -

Far from those purple-heathered hills

     From where they surfaced first.

Copyright on all my poems

*  Note:  PERSONIFICATION: This poem is packed to the brim with personification.  When you give something which is not human, human qualities, this is the term we use.

See also:  The Mighty River