The Party at the Water Meadows

The water rushes to greet me

At the wooden fence

Where my fingertips, press lightly

Into the remnants of fallen rain

Finding its way, to the home below

Where the water swirls

Like guests, mingling at a party

Their crystal clear glasses, clinking

In a commotion, refreshing, and crisp

Crunchy, like the watercress

It grew, before it came here

To where water never looked so good

So delicious, so fresh, so fast

I feel the temptation

To jump in, and join in the fun

I am invited, it tells me

As it passes by, smirking

Smug on its adventure

But, I see, there is nowhere

For it to take me

Only into the hard brick wall

Where it bows, and makes its exit

It will go on without me

To greet the sea

But I don’t mind

I have places to be

Up to the Bridge Road

Where a Bishop presides

Over a cacophony of blaspheming wails

A Saturday night, high in spirits

Diluting the water’s roar, which

Dissolves, under the sound of the traffic

Growing distant, and then gone

Back into history

Lost under the sounds

Of the city’s revelry

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