POETRY


Sister River

Round the river again, after so many years,
How peaceful & serene, but hasn’t it changed.
Or has it, on the bank yes, now blocks of flatsOf unspectacular design, trying to upstage the perennial Bittern Manor,’
Situated just before the bend & Northam Bridge.
A Gothic ambience, adorned in verdant green woodland,
On Clausentum, the original ancient Roman settlement,
That pre-dates Saxon Hamwich town, downstream
At the river’s mouth near Canute, the landing place of the foreign uniting King.
Later reclamation strategic dockland, both commercial & residential,
Blitzed so totally &devastatingly one dark moonless night.
The river Itchen, my companion for so many years,
Ever present & ready refuge, from domestic chaos & madness.
Flowing quiescent, a mesmerizing movement that soothes the mind,
Nourishing the soul, enabling harmony in balance, resolving opposing conflicts.
The only interruptions, the flowing pageantry of tidal river blues,
White majestic swans, being caroled by ever watchful assertive alpha male.
Noisy darting ducks, establishing hierarchal food foraging.
Lazy late summer evening air, echoing to the bellowing coxman calls,
As his boat spasmodically glides, through the flowing water.
Synchronised effort, propelling the light slim craft,
Jerk like, in every quickening rhythm & pace.
First faintly & then more distinctly, the indistinguishable
Sound of the seagull outboard engine from afar,
Signaling another old sea dog’s approach, pedestrian like upriver.
This has not indeed changed, as the tidal rhythm dictates all
Still dots on the river survive, clusters of boat huddle
Between new emerging developments, that have sprouted along the banks
Descending upon ancient boat-mooring, leaving little trace.