Slick wet rock walls cover caves behind the mountains falls
Where the water runs thick over the sheer
Its as if the mountain was crying or at least shedding a tear
Well the water runs down the cliff faces to the granite below; down into the meadow the water would flow
Filling the walkways crowded by, colored with kids
The water would reach down to the dandelion covered groves
Where rocking chair people read in their cottage next to their stoves
The orchids would bloom
Cold clear water in their veins
The liquid would scrawl down the thickest of plains
On through the prairies
Making muck; spreading mire
Reaching the bay called a cove is the coveted desire
Though the lifeblood of the valley might not make it that far
It will soon be lifted by a single star
First It will take quite a long time to soak into the ground and be sucked up by roots
But listen my friend one day that water will make the orchids bloom
And just the same the sun over them loom
For then the warmth will create the gas that was once the river
It will all make its way back to the mountain from which it was delivered
YOU ARE READING
My Heart To Yours
Poetry~My heart burns on heavy with nothing and no one to call my own~ I had fun with these. That you probably knew, but also I hope you will too! With Love, David Yager
