The River

The river flows with ease and grace,
Reflecting skies in a liquid embrace;
Winding through valleys, past rocks and reeds,
Carving its story while nature feeds.

In spring, it dances with laughter and song,
As to the rhythm of life, it flows along;
Yet when winter comes, with its icy blast,
The river lies tranquil, memories amassed.

But every season, it whispers true,
Of journeys taken, of skies so blue;
So let us wander beside its shore,
And hear the tales of its timeless lore.

• E J Brady