The water’s will is indestructable

Eroded forms surround one thousand years

Of stormy patience


The water’s route is round about

Coating each dolerite dyke with

Sharp, sticky barnicles as it caresses


The water’s force, self contained violence

Chopping itself at it’s edges, only

To regain fluid form fast


The water’s temperament is changeable

Dry and dizzy then wild and angry

Pulsating polarities evidently


Great turquoise essence, reaching out to rock

With infinite fingers, moulding the mass

Smoothing the jagged edges so gently


The water’s soul always still and steady

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