When worlds collide
Rivers of uncertainty
That pull you into their grasp
Tangier and Jellalabad:
One was in Afghanistan
the other in Morocco far from home
and always in collision
with the local population,
Who quite rightly felt that they were put upon.
Yet back at home it was the rivers that rebelled
The quagmire of young tributaries
And squelching ditches
The Maids of Taunton
Sedgemoor no more
The uprising where ideas
Were put to the sword
And hung out to dry
The tributaries of knowledge
Honed down into towns
We know today. Isle be having you
Tone it down a bit, What's brewing?
They live vicariously
This land of summer settlers
Always at odds with itself.
The flood tide pulling the land down
Acres submerged, farms a fathom deep
The bank resuscitated
French weir, the other side of the channel
Shadows dance, between the trees
Plain sailing. Otters live here
Water their demesne
This river, safe anchorage,
We weave words between the trees
Get a feel for the lie of the land.
Glimpse of the Castle
Hotel for thought.
James Crowden 21st July 2018