Beck

I pace along with you beck.
You are trapped within your shores
Too deep to hurry or play and you are too
Dark with bracken and heather decay to
Let me frolic along...so I sing my song of
Cuckoo spit with one eye on you because
I know what you are in for... so for now just tarry!
You are nearly there at my place and you will be my beck!
The beck I know you will be. Full of gurgles and
Shallows and tickling stones that i can dam you
With! You can say hello to the old pools where
Frogspawn is housed temporarily and sticklebacks
Lodge with the bullyheads amongst the worn jam
Jars with waxed string for handles. So I pace with you beck
And will run and giggle as I send you off to merge
With a river I have never seen or know the name of.

The brothers await the young report.






Poetry by jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 504 times
Written on 2012-01-28 at 00:59

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normalil
This reminds me of "Inversnaid," by Gerard Manley Hopkins. Cheers Linda!
2014-06-12


Sid Gardner
I enjoyed this very much Linda. Please forgive my spontaneous poetic outburst inspired by your brilliant writing.
Sid.
2012-02-05


Sid Gardner
The Beck I know now forms a hillside Pentland burn.
Dark are its deepest pools overflowing black as coal
With fast melting winter snows that undercut it all,
Banks where in springtime tammy trout lies in wait.

The bracken binds the stones and gnarled tree roots,
Twist and turn in alluvial peat and sedimantary loam.
Many pass this burn, few stop to listen to its melody,
Recorded hundreds of years of birdsong with babbles.

So run fast and true sweet waters tinged with peat,
Waters cascade through sacred rilles to silent seas,
Memories carried by that conduit of life still flow neven,
Forget-me-nots and snowdrops peep from mossy sleep.
2012-02-05


Brian Oarr
Balk Beck?!?
2012-01-28


Brian Oarr
Ah, Linda, you've outdone yourself with this peice. Straight from your mind to the page ... sticklebacks and all.

I hope you had as much fun writing this, as I did reading it.

Brian
2012-01-28


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Its name is Elkhorn. Eventually, it arrives at Portugal's shore. It has a smile on its muddy New World face.
2012-01-28