The river is flowing, flowing past the reeds,
a canal grown from the small seeds.
Willows are swaying, swaying to the gale,
as the breeze lets the yacht boats sail.
Oh come by the river
where the water is a-quiver.
Where are you going river? Far, far away.
I will go with you river. To the sea bay.
Where are you going breeze? High to the sky?
I will go with you breeze... and learn to fly high.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry and Lamentations
PoetrySome poems about nature and serene landscapes. I would call it an anthology. However, some poems are Lamentations so therefore, may be quite despairing and upsetting.
