The Brook

April 23, 2018
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I skipped along a well-trodden path,
which many a man has wandered past

 

All of a sudden I came upon a brook,
It reminded me of the brooks, I’d read about in books

 

There was a ripple, a bubbling trickle
gently I put my hand into the water, and felt a soft tickle

 

The water was cold, and clear as glass,
as I sat and stared at this bubbling mass

 

Near the brook there was some thistles
All of a sudden I heard a bird whistle

 

The bird swooped and flew near the crystal clear water
it sat on a limb singing a chorus; hurriedly he quit to spot an otter

 

The otter splashed and played
while I sat in the shade

 

I could only marvel at the beauty of this scene in nature
that meant so much to this poor old stranger






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