Do not rush the gentle stream
With a nudging gush, where I am
By the way of this placid scene
As I let it race down the silver sand
I lost myself, as lost as a lamb
At the lapping sounds of pebbles,
That quivered silently below the serene
Do not rush the gentle stream,
Oh for on the contrary, may it never settle
But be the rivulet, that fills
The great lake of our dreams
No, it is not likely the gentle stream
Will be disturbed and swell
If we let it carry wayward
Seamless and unfettered,
Below the boughs and the natural trills,
Who each give a hand
To this treasure gifted to man
Do not rush the gentle stream, my friend,
Lay your sticks on the trail,
Lay your tracks on the sand path
That stream us from nature, and homeward
About the Creator
Octovo Libra
Instagram: @libracymbaspoems
Twitter : @libracymbalspoems
And my poetry Hell Is Like A Dog Kennel and other poems
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Comments (1)
This was so position and uplifting! Loved your poem!