memory of a river
memory of a river1 min 2 1 min 2
Little daughter drop of a bigger Mrs. Drop
exclaimed in sheer joy one day
as she held the family album
of Mrs. May.
Mother dear where do all these other
of our kind now bear
for I see now it's only you and me.
Before we succumb dear child
hear it, our story of a river wild
flowed in all colors of verdure and azure.
Fewer were the people few were their greeds
few were their wants few to us entreats.
Satan landed on their senses
they devoured the river of it's purity and sanity.
All of our kind choked and died
a slow and painful death
full of muck of greed and and wrath.
the two of us may not be there
by tomorrow noon
so hearken carefully if I leave soon
then keep catching your breath may be you survive
under deep sand of drying riverside.
I wish to bless, you may bring that life
of the gushing waters carefree and wild.