Down Below

As rivers twist and snake,

Gently they flow towards the lake.

The frosty mist tickles my skin.

Water trickling downstream, exploring the maze,

Sparkling and gleaming in the sun's rays.

The rippling and babbling of the water sings,

Wattle pollen gently floats in rings.

Reeds ready to reach their lanky peak,

Growing alongside the dense, murky creek.

The river is always moving and flowing,

With river dwellers hiding, unknowing.

Ducks squabbling in an argument.

Fireflies light the river at dusk,

All the dwellers become quiet and lusk.

Forming around trees, the river gradually glides towards the sea.