Sonnet from the Rocks
(Fingle Bridge)
Glistening torrents stain the bouldered ground
From springs on high in wooded slopes.
A course through thickened marshland found;
The crest of moss-clad rocks it gropes.
It bleeds into veins disposed by earthy nooks
And still to flow it would if left alone;
Taking the only course it knows it hooks
Around the base of bridges set in stone
As people chatter on the river bank;
Voices sounding distant due to coarse
And crisp and sensuous sounds that sink
Into the ambiance of abundant moors.
And towards the precious water's power
I give you full attention in this hour.