The water sparkles lightly
As it trickles over the edge
Of the cold stone dam.
It gently glides down the sides,
Passing over velvet—smooth
Patches of moss, like tears
Rolling down an angel’s face,
Until it reaches the bottom
Where it kisses the mother stream
And flows with her
Through the valleys of life.
Sept. 15, 1978
© 2010 – 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.