The Source
It whispers and it murmurs, counting down my days
The stream that straddles our family farm, it plays;
Now with freedom to indulge
I wander these afternoons alone
Out by the river's arm
It served my dad, his father too
Fresh water that's met our needs
Providence, to be sure, it feeds;
Mirrored sun a dreamy haze
As I lose myself in its dance
Cherish nature's allure
The stream that straddles our family farm, it plays;
Now with freedom to indulge
I wander these afternoons alone
Out by the river's arm
It served my dad, his father too
Fresh water that's met our needs
Providence, to be sure, it feeds;
Mirrored sun a dreamy haze
As I lose myself in its dance
Cherish nature's allure
Grahame J Flynn Views in Verse
