In a throbbing pace, the river flows,

Enclosed by the fence, the cow moos,

Across the bridge, next to the rose,

Standing on the ridge, our eyes cross



Water in the falls, pounding perfectly on the ground,

At the foot of the walls, lay pebbles round,

Scouring the sand, nature depicts its might,

Like a man mad, I stand watching it right



In the hand a red rose, beatific grin like a bride,

Stormy waves rise, inviting you for a ride,

In a low voice, humming a tune,

Evidently rejoice, on the cliff I mute



Hands locked together, fondly folded,

Not minding the weather, eyes momentarily blinded,

Like a movie star, keen to avoid a hiss,

Ending the perceived war, response a soft fond kiss



Resting on the bar, holding the rail,

One leg on the spar, an incoming mail,

Dad restless in the lounge, sitting on a mat,

Anxious for the launch, on his bald a hat