Song of the Brook
by Susan Abraham
Can a beautiful gushing brook gather
its skirts like a noisy woman
bent on fits and starts
to rustle up her garment and brace up her laces
like she was nothing short of a wayward tart...
I say, I say!
Can the watchful trees and polished rocks
turn their backs on shivers from a ripple
when the water shoots up a merry dance all supple...
In the end, I'd say my friend, just not today,
And if you want some action from a makebelieve tavern
Come back for a slip-up splash,
all grand and up for a bang
some other kind and silent day.
by Susan Abraham
Can a beautiful gushing brook gather
its skirts like a noisy woman
bent on fits and starts
to rustle up her garment and brace up her laces
like she was nothing short of a wayward tart...
I say, I say!
Can the watchful trees and polished rocks
turn their backs on shivers from a ripple
when the water shoots up a merry dance all supple...
In the end, I'd say my friend, just not today,
And if you want some action from a makebelieve tavern
Come back for a slip-up splash,
all grand and up for a bang
some other kind and silent day.
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