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Dylan McFadden Nov 2020
O’ Flowing Stream, smooth and calm,
How gentle are your waves

Oh, how refreshing is your taste;
Like crystal glass, your gaze

I came a long and weary way –
Walked through the deserts dry

And in the moment that my eye
Beheld your view I cried

---

I cried because my eyes then traced
Your course up to the Spring

The Source beyond the mountain top,
Where blessings flow and bring

I saw a bright and lovely sight:
A plan in the Grand Scheme

Providence…it brought me here,
To drink – to sing – to dream

---

O’ Stream, now that I’m here with you,
I’m here with you to stay

I’ll make my home and plant a tree
Beside your waters way

I’ll watch it close and give it all
I can to help it grow

And trust the Source to ever-pour
That you may overflow

.
A poem about my wife
Orakhal Oct 2020
You could never think it
if it weren't your thought
Kurt Carman Oct 2020
"I go to Nature to be soothed and healed and to have my senses put in order".
- John Burroughs


Part I

When the time was right, he does not hesitate to follow the path, “I've been waiting for this moment a very long time" he says.
Just himself, a Sage XP fly rod, a Golden Prince reel and a selection of March Browns and Slate Drakes. Its a special morning, Autumn 60s, overcast skies and lowlights.


The pathway bends past tall Sugar Maples, Old Stone fences, a Groundhog or two, trout lilies and mountain laurel. Its right here, that his fondest memories reside.
He had come at last to transcend the idea of coming back to the river for a greater purpose. A purpose that makes life worth living, a milestone, his own personal mark on this special place.
The sound of the river is in earshot now. A Chipping Sparrow sounds the alarm and all of Neversinks inhabitance are now on notice….human approaching.


As he reaches the river bank he's transported to a memory of his Granddad. The times when they fished this stretch of the river together.
His Grandfather told him about a time when fly fisherman and fly tiers honored Neversink and made it famous.


We always fished until it was dark. Granddad would light the lantern and we’d walk and talk all the way home. I often felt encouraged that just knowing the importance of this place, brought me luck.

Part II

"So by now, you're probably wondering who I am." "My name is Tom, Tom Murphy." "As a child, I came here each summer to spend time with my grandparents in the town of Roscoe, NY. When I graduated high school, I still came here from time to time whenever I had a college break as an Agronomy major at Cornell. I've always loved this place. It's always been near and dear to my heart."


The very next morning, Tom makes his way down the pathway to the river again. A nice steady Breeze was blowing through the trees, and that's when he heard it again. It's almost as if someone was speaking through the trees and wind. There it was again, this time calling out a whispering "tight lines." This was the very same voice that Tom heard as a child when his Grandfather took him to the river from the very first time.


A light rain began to fall, and Tom took cover under a large hemlock tree. Thunder sounded off in the distance, and everything in the forest was dead silent. As Tom peered across the river, he spotted movement in the adjacent Forest. A second later, a figure appeared on the bank of the river. An older man probably in his late sixties dressed in a top hat and coat, a split bamboo fly rod, and a German Shorthair Pointer by his side. Tom called out, " Good morning, sir. How are you?"
A spin off of my previous work called A RISE ON NEVERSINK.
a m a n d a Oct 2020
will   things   love   time   thing   life   eyes   feel   light   people   mind   beautiful   find   heart   thought   man   face   place   good   night   day   hard   moment   earth   sun   imagine   better   going   music   truth   hope   air   woman   space   men   hear   break   white   understand   women   ****   black   wrong   body   best   girls   brain   wall   real   lies   sure   suddenly   cry   fire   word   sound   art   terror   stand   blue   path   keep   speak   thoughts   matter   dark   hold   pretty   sleep   thinking   tears   fool   years   human   move   red   state   left   *******   feeling   strange   ****   voice   learn   sad   coming   times   crazy   golden   water   record   wanted   making   glass   sense   felt   fear   listen   desire   sky   matters   power   mine   person   kind   care   hair   bad   queen   breathe   lost   create   song   long   forward   true   deep   winter   green   hey   woods   watch   dream   days   knew   strength   close   cold   moving   bright   stupid   guess   live   quiet   write   *******   paper   fall   beauty   choose   decide   help   walk   listening   bird   reality   pieces   eye   smile   honest   trees   cast   feet   sister   birds   single   entire   remember   money   silence   happened   lips   figure   metal   lines   silver   hate   question   piece   silly   inside   bass   fine   gonna   hell   head   pull   ***   wild   dead   paint   sadness   work   closer   sounds   pain   nice   afraid   hands   burn   takes   chest   year   realize   car   god   lights   describe   fast   wine   blood   trust   high   color   looked   big   ready   call   ideas   breath   alive   songs   heavy   gold   ground   children   stars   build   cool   point   thinks   stay   grey   waves   taught   sit   running   today   walking   smoke   full   fact   simply   family   follow   game   straight   slowly   loved   minutes   nature   sake   grasp   great   seek   girl   literally   free   wood   bones   wait   lose   tree   dreams   sweet   ways   despair   baby   easily   hiding   clear   heard   throw   house   mouse   memory   hand   storm   bring   side   universe   note   slow   story   order   utter   job   young   death   reach   standing   gin   whisper   constantly   revealed   fair   boom   mitsubishi   warm   corner   cousin   brilliant   leave   ****   pay   gotta   education   telling   escape   fly   rush   opponent   second   open   soft   watched   cheese   humanity   country   apart   happiness   colors   gaze   void   imagined   opposite   circles   room   ice   clearly   bed   worth   force   data   save   father   deserve   boy   grow   flow   jesus   pretend   hide   dragon   shape   meaning   hot   nights   perfect   alert   yellow   start   *****   tiny   rage   aware   answer   told   wind   blankets   liberated   crying   idea   decided   happy   school   arms   action   finally   simple   die   sick   guts   moves   wife   sir   turn   tight   teach   attention   completely   strong   yeah   admit   assault   change   liar   empty   knowing   surely   miserable   feels   challenge   forget   angry   lives   happening   shadow   secret   roll   stones   child   purple   reading   hurt   pink   eat   circle   failed   wanting   seriously   guys   retreat   shine   vast   energy   ugly   rare   funny   lay   crushing   calm   weight   low   struggle   falling   pounding   ago   moon   distracted   recognize   ahead   leaves   teeth   government   exactly   land   direct   talk   names   turns   worst   play   fail   expect   legs   hours   center   news   stories   sitting   met   utterly   held   purpose   dance   caught   problem   mouth   future   consider   watching   serious   absence   shining   president   mile   cuz   turned   touch   catch   paying   group   reflected   view   brings   letting   fed   pulling   shoulder   violence   strike   fun   push   reaching   laugh   confusion   heat   add   allow   gods   ink   orange   unable   general   someday   growing   dancing   drama   bend   fingers   pretending   walls   reasonable   searching   neck   brought   grass   dare   instant
15.8k words | from my profile
Brian Turner Oct 2020
Thank-you green stream
Thank-you for being so green
Thank-you for being 'glean'
For the watermeal, the wolffia
and the onomatopoeia
Notes from taking 5 minutes to absorb the colour of a bright green stream brimming with life on a woodland walk this morning
Ema Sep 2020
One leg up
hand resting
I'm scribbling ideas
to help me fall asleep.
I like tall buildings
and lots of concrete

One leg up
while walking in the city
still
faces in weird spaces
move
my gait, not that pretty
look!
four pugs on a chain
city cerberus
concrete keeper
perpetual eater
grim reaper
shh

One leg up
on a concrete world
that idea spilled
like a cup
coffee
on the floor
my mind
sleep
Zoe Rain Sep 2020
There is a serpent in the sky between the clouds, he distorts and morphs into the whirlpools of my mind.
He slithers in negative space and hisses at cloud shapes, he disappears into thunder and his tongue licks lightning strikes.
There is a serpent in the sky and his beady eyes are black holes, the scales on his body are lights in my galaxy and I trace constellations with his scars.
We dance together to a distant melody and he twirls me around the moons scattered on the dance floor. He wraps me up and hugs me tight until I can’t breathe anymore.
Derrek Estrella Sep 2020
Who wants to fly down the roots of water lilies?
Or through the dunes of grave men?
It is on wooden creaks of floors and idle whistles of ****** that you find your measured path. You could take a ruler to it all the same, still come up short, impossible somehow and ruthless in design.... truth nonetheless. And a careless thing that is- acceptance. So maintain the stranglehold of hindsight and pray to the yes lord and the bad omens for they might give you something you didn’t see, something you didn’t beg for. Or the farewell “no”. Or nothing entirely; the greatest of all weights for skinned shoulders.  When looking back puts forth more ill will in your movement than trying forwards then maybe it’s the right thing to feel: the feeling of good gracious disgust. So spit at your feet and it too will follow you to age and bliss beyond that, for the time being. Be it as it may, you should laugh with the skill of a parrot and cry with the tightrope walker’s unease. And bless you bless you ‘till the very end. Might as well, for that makes a fine bookmark in the shape of all things ending.
Lane O Sep 2020
Brimming with passion
Lush valley of sweet nectar
I drink from your stream
Kara Shirlene Sep 2020
Like the wind
The water calls
Listen as the sounds
Come trickling down
A peaceful calm
Fulfills my Soul
The rhythm of the flow
Brings me back home
Music made
By Mother Earth
Free song she brings to all
Be still. Just listen to her call.
©KSS 3/2017
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