Waterfall
The water rushes Over rocks rounded by time Crystal blue with with foamy edges Icy cold and yet comforting It flows and drops with a hushing sound husssssssshhhhhhhh It peaks out from grey, stony cliffs Jumping off the top into itself Splashing gently Vines cling to the wall Prospering with the crisp spray of the fall The fall flows into a lake The lake flows into stream All surrounded by grass as green as emeralds Sparkling just same with dew of all Trees hiding the magick Forests stretching out for acres Mainly evergreens But elms, ashes, and a few other grow too And there is one beautiful willow Sleeping and crying at the base of the falls Truly this place is Elysium And here... I am FreeI apologize that the title was so simple... I really couldn't think of one that would explain the meaning of this particular poem Written February 16th, 2002 © on Feb 16 2002 02:31 PM PST 18 • 0 • 10
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"The water rushes..."