Cry Me A River

The wind ripples

Over the blue waters

White caps rise

To their fate

Currents carry them

To distant shores

Urging them 

To not be late

Cry me a river

Stand and deliver

Promises made

Promises kept

Cry me a river

What I’ve come to expect

Forest fires cleanse

Scrub nature clean

New experiences

Encouraging the unforeseen

Seedlings do sprout

As if it was their fate

New beginnings

Are never late

  Copyright 2024

by Bill Ferguson

All Rights Reserved