A river walk in May
(walked, written and posted 22nd May 18.)
Warm sun on my back I walk.
The river stones cry out resisting the rushing water.
Birds sing in competition,
A complicated melody,
An unharmonious harmony, a symphony.
The damsel flies brown and blue,
The pink campion a verdant hue,
I alight upon my favourite spot,
Sun on neck now burning hot.
And in stony discomfort I contentedly sit,
While the sand martins dip and flit,
What is this life if I cannot joy feel,
Among the thorns that catch my heel.
Dandelion seeds float before my face,
A halcyon day-dream in time and space,
Like fondly remembered days,
Where carelessly a small boy played.
Then a fisherman came,
He’d caught a Salmon but let it go again,
About this big – he showed me.
It’s in the sport his enjoyment lies,
Giving life to the fish to catch more flies,
For man does not live on bread and meat alone,
His Spirit calls to nature home.
Now by the river I sweetly walk,
And stop to smell crushed garlic stalk,
Where bluebells and goat willow together grow,
An ever changing but familiar place I know.
The dappled light between the trees
Makes me fall upon my knees
In joy and imperfect peace to thank,
The maker of my river bank.
Jim Lewis-Clarke 2018