The Blue River

Walking down a beautiful river bank,
You meet a man named Frank.

He tells you about a lovely blue river,
The way he describes it makes you shiver.

You ask him to take you there,
He tells you that it's rare.

You take a cab to a lovely autumn place,
The leaves blow round with such grace.

You take a slow walk down a narrow path,
As the wind lets out its wrath.

In the distance you see a lovely white bridge,
When you walk over it your feet become ridged.

Frank says and here is the Blue River,
The way the waves ripple make shiver.

There's a lovely cherry blossom tree over you,
There's also a lovely little swan in view.

The river is bright blue and fragile,
As it moves down the bank so smooth and agile.

It flows so slowly and with such ease,
The motion is lovely it brings you to your knees.

All your cares just fly away,
As the little waves sway.

The town you're in looks so french,
As you sit down upon a glossy bench.

You sit there and watch the river glow,
It is like a proper show.

Copyright: Karlie67: 2007