The River

The River winds between the trees, A silver thread, a whispered plea, Carving paths through dreams untold, A tender heart of nature’s fold.

Where waters kiss the banks in play, And lilies bloom in soft array, Reflections tell of days gone by, Each ripple is a gentle sigh.

Along its shores, memories swell, Of lovers, poets, those who fell; In each current, a song of old, Spins tales of life in waters bold.

  • Alexandre Blok