Canoe Poetry by John Adam
To Journey down the Cauldon
by John Adam
©Canoe with a View and its contributors 2008 to 2009. All rights reserved by authors
A mirror of the canopy of the trees above my head
Is the reflection greeting me with feet in early morning dew?
To stop, wait; swallow this early morning time of bliss
But listen the sun awakes the birdsong to start the day a new
That mirrored sheen upon the water disturbed by me alone
With such ever so gentle ripples that melt in reflected sun
Music emanating from the gentle dripping of the morning ice
On to the percussion surface and so sighed of orchestral fun
Warming shoulders from the sun behind me, blue sky above
A path of adventure before me, my way lit by the slivery road ahead
So panoramic a view to behold and this is my guide for today
I shudder, smile shoulders relaxed for this is my wine and bread.
Of flora in spring time colour illuminates the banks and hills
Profusion of a yellow'ie gold a bed of dancing daffodils
White and pink dresses the hawthorn white and black and still..
Surpassed by the backcloth draped in green of the elderly water mill
Colloquial murmurs follow me on my journey from within the wood
The world has awoken and joined my day, “aye up there good mornin' ”
As the gamekeeper breaks through a partition of nature and stands
Dressed in tweed bag to shoulder a wave, I nod and tip my brim I understood.
Stroking the coat of the river with gentle entry of my paddle to propel
A swell passes me by a birth from my own demure efforts
A notion, I'm in motion from the passing of another woodland dell
To take to my onward, forward, towards another day.
Is the reflection greeting me with feet in early morning dew?
To stop, wait; swallow this early morning time of bliss
But listen the sun awakes the birdsong to start the day a new
That mirrored sheen upon the water disturbed by me alone
With such ever so gentle ripples that melt in reflected sun
Music emanating from the gentle dripping of the morning ice
On to the percussion surface and so sighed of orchestral fun
Warming shoulders from the sun behind me, blue sky above
A path of adventure before me, my way lit by the slivery road ahead
So panoramic a view to behold and this is my guide for today
I shudder, smile shoulders relaxed for this is my wine and bread.
Of flora in spring time colour illuminates the banks and hills
Profusion of a yellow'ie gold a bed of dancing daffodils
White and pink dresses the hawthorn white and black and still..
Surpassed by the backcloth draped in green of the elderly water mill
Colloquial murmurs follow me on my journey from within the wood
The world has awoken and joined my day, “aye up there good mornin' ”
As the gamekeeper breaks through a partition of nature and stands
Dressed in tweed bag to shoulder a wave, I nod and tip my brim I understood.
Stroking the coat of the river with gentle entry of my paddle to propel
A swell passes me by a birth from my own demure efforts
A notion, I'm in motion from the passing of another woodland dell
To take to my onward, forward, towards another day.