Daily Prompt: River

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Welling up from nowhere, fluid freshness
Snaking its way through the grass
Squelching underfoot and seeping
Through the stitching of my boots.

Clear, sweet liquid; fountain of life
Forming rivulets between the tussocks
And carrying tiny particles as it flows
Always downward; mind of its own.

Whispering, chattering, bubbling
With life, love, laughter
Skipping  over pebbles and
Forcing crevices anew.

Water; slaking thirsts of plants
And animals alike: little rivers
Of refreshment joined by others
And swelling the ranks as it flows.

Widening, the trickle grows
Splashing over boulders and hiding
Fish within its eddies. Under-currents.
Swirling and twirling with coolness.

And suddenly down the steep slope
Falling a sweet cascade of sparkling light
And sound of rushing gurgles
Crashing down a precipice of stone.

And ever onwards always flowing along
The lowest path; rushing from mountain
To valley and slowing to sluggishness
As it meanders to the sea.

Water more precious than gold
Life saver of all; transparent and clear
Yet combining every colour of the rainbow
Promise of life from heaven to earth.

Words and photo copyright Englepip ©

via Daily Prompt: Rivulet

Daily Prompt: It came from the east

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It came from the East: this huge raging beast

Shrieking through crevices of rock.

It whipped up huge  waves

In mountains and swirls.

Crashed into the coast and the caves.

It churned  the sea bed;

Tore the beach to a shred

Gathering shingle and stones

It  spit back.

It shattered the cliffs

And gnawed at the shore

Receding …….

Then breaking once more

Rhythmically pounding

The surf ever sounding

A barrage penetrating

Your core.

Poem and photo copyright to Englepip©

 

via Daily Prompt: Churn

Daily Prompt: The Power of Steam

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” Efficiency is the ratio of useful work to resources  expended. In other words, the ratio of the output to the input of a given system.”

 

They say  steam engines were

Really  inefficient.

Yet they worked and so

Were icons of their time.

 

Their powerful engines hissed

As their gliding pistons swished

And the big wheels steadily turned

Upon the line.

 

Journeying far ‘cross country

Along parallel lines of  track

Their smokestacks burning brightly

There and back.

 

Generations mourn their passing

And old engines they have rescued

Recombining, reassembling

All from the scrap.

 

They hammer and they chisel

Blacksmithing with a sizzle

Engineering perfect pieces

Of great size.

 

And when the engine’s  finished

They admire her in her glory

Resurrected into power

To run once more.

 

Then the new steam comes a-fizzing,

From the smoke-stack wildly hissing

And along the lines it’s whizzing

Inefficient maybe yes.

 

But do we care?

 

For that  old engine it is running

And faithfully it is pulling

Is it not a most amazing sight to see?

 

And to smell the soot and grime

Feel the rhythm of the line

Is a special thing for all,

 

Especially me.

 

Poem and photo copyright to Englepip©

 

 

 

 

 

via Daily Prompt: Inefficient