‘River Bush’
So sweetly flows the river in my dreams,
Through golden sunsets or resplendent dawns
I hear you sing as grasses grow,
And kingfishers fly
From little eddies you meander,
To the sound of rushing reeds
Sweeping grandly aside,
The beckoning banks
With twists and turns,
The motion of creation
As you carve your way,
To river’s end
Flow on River Bush,
Through the byways to my heart
So I may linger long,
On the shores of your magnificence
By
Mary Cecil
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Ron
a most delightful vision imprinted here.
Budd