Cradle Of Civilizations

Impermanent your banks the twain,

Scurrying along yon vale and plain,

Ignorant of term refrain,

Each moment in a pace you gain.

Sometimes you slow down to trickle,

Summer heat puts you in a pickle,

Weather is but moody and fickle,

Even gales do sometimes tickle.

Tides and ebbs upon your body,

As if brewed with ale and toddy,

Never ever have you been gaudy,

Keep it stark but not too shoddy.

Incessant like the busy bee,

Straight the back and bent the knee,

Always seeking the mighty sea,

Mere sight puts you in glee.

Cold waters your make me shiver,

As if struck with winter fever,

But of life, I call you giver,

Hence the name you carry, river!