The Observer

Floweth The Water

So Sweet,

Amidst The Grassy Banks.

Tumbles The Water

So Daint,

Over The Glistening Stones.

The Bubbling Brook 

Chippers, So lively,

With Ducks and Turtles alike.

The Ripples Echo To-wards

The Crane's Dipped Beak,

Wrapping it's ringlets around

Embodied Forms Stationed Still.

Glimmers Underneath,

Small and Tad in size,

Weight Upon Their Backs

The Pool of Seven Tides.

Perched upon The Grassy Shore

A Girl with Streaming Hair Galore,

Observes the path of Righteous Lore,

And Writes, with Raptness,

The Words of Sounds that she doth Adore.

-Madelaine Irene