The River

I stand here watching a river---wondering where it goes,

Winding it’s way northward---to where God only knows,

It’s waters never ending---it surely has no foes,

She’s did a lot of good--- too she’s caused a lot of woes.

 

I wonder how many gallons---pass by here every hour,

For certain it’s enough---to make lotsa’ electric power,

Creeks, lakes and streams--- o’er them all she does tower,

So if you face the river--- don’t be brave but only cower.

 

She’s been around a long time---we all know this of course,

Though somewhat tamed by dams---yet she’s a mighty force,

No place along her length---from her ending to her source,

Can she be taken for granted---else she will cause remorse.

 

Dinosaurs drank from her banks---a hundred million years ago,

Along it’s length and breadth---the Indian a canoe did row,

She rolls ever onward---flowing high and flowing low;

Don’t let her looks deceive---theres a dangerous undertow.

 

Not too long in the past---one crossed her waters by ferry,

When one thinks of those days---an eye just may get bleary,

But we don’t wanna’ get sad---let’s keep this little thing merry,

So when dealing with the river---be oh so very leery.

 

Should you swim in her waters---let there be no doubt,

Just ask most anyone---anywhere along her route,

Be very, very careful---in this dangerous bout,

She swallows the novice swimmer--- along with the Eagle Scout.

 

If this ole river could talk---the things she could tell,

About the dawning of time---she was here at the opening bell,

She’s seen empires rise---and watched as many fell,

Though dust they now be---she’s doing very well.

 

Just show her some respect---this is not to cause a scare,

It usually is the careless---that constitute her fare

So be a little timid---to the point of taking a dare,

For she can be ferocious---just like a grizzly bear.

 

You’d be wise to respect her---if you wish to remain a liver,

Best not to challenge her---she’s a taker not a giver,

All things of Mother Nature---at her approach they do quiver,

This mighty majestic stream---our very own New River.

 

M. L. WILKINSON