I once worked with a young man, who kept telling me nature was rubbish and how he hated being in nature and yet one day while doing a Sit-spot by the river he wrote this poem. I really like his poems and yet I hate poetry, funny how things turn out.
Twisted Water
I sit and watch on the river bank
Feeling the peace of the stones that sank
How the water churns and twists like a waterfall the fogs and mists
I wonder how it's that unique, delicate and harmful
With every wish to trade it for my soul
Becoming the thing of my dreams in nature
To hope and be prepared for the future
By reading this, I hope you think about life
Accept what happens, but don't live with strife
I sit and watch on the river bank
Feeling the peace of the stones that sank
How the water churns and twists like a waterfall the fogs and mists
I wonder how it's that unique, delicate and harmful
With every wish to trade it for my soul
Becoming the thing of my dreams in nature
To hope and be prepared for the future
By reading this, I hope you think about life
Accept what happens, but don't live with strife
Written by Luke aged 15 yrs
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