The RIver

O’er bouldered log yet undeterred ye fly,
A season's store of waters' head has sent,
Thy foaming rage ‘spite calm winds from July,
On mission which ye surely seem hell-bent,

To carve this gorge and widen this crevasse,
'Tween two of us, who once meandered past,
Those peaceful pines and beck’ning blue bear grass,
To find a love I'd thought became steadfast,

But you’ve since come and now it seems you’ll go,
Amid the mist of waterfall’s reglow,
While they ye've cut are stranded in ox bow,
I close my eyes and dream of green meadow, 

Where you and I can see from eye to eye,
And love each other without asking why.

- Scott Alexander McKenzie