Thursday, 5 April 2012


This water’s cool    and it runs easy.
Down falls it sheer    and up it fills
first a battered saucepan    then a dusty water-bottle;
cascade-weight is on my back    and welcome there.

You will come with me    I see    and we’ll always wander
till that tanned hour    when stars tumble down.
And though our tent is sweltering    yet still that sun keeps turning:
so many glad waterfalls    I’ll grateful share with thee.

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