The dawn breaks into tiny pieces,
Shatters into dust,
In a flash my heartbeat ceases,
Life cruel and unjust,
Memories of days with you,
Bittersweet and lust,
Everyday your love decreases,
In you, I cannot trust.
Falling from the grace of Heaven,
Numb and incomplete,
I'd swim across the River Severn
For you to repeat
The words you once whispered so soft,
With which I can't compete,
Time stands still - it's now or never,
To erase deceit.
My heart is broken, six feet down,
You leave me here for dead,
To break my soul I shan't allow,
For too long I have bled,
I will not falter, will not bow,
On I you cannot tread,
I'll stand 'til I'm below the ground,
In my wooden bed.
Conceived in nineteen forty six
By naturalist, Sir Peter Scott,
This wetland paradise now thrives
And teems with ducks and geese and swans.
The wild geese drew Scott to the marsh,
The flood plain of the river Severn,
Where countless wintering wildfowl stop
Upon their migratory journey.
There’re nine varieties of swan
And more than twenty types of geese,
Not to mention ducks by the dozen
With varying plumage through the seasons.
Flamingos, elegant on stilts,
Gather gregariously together.
They make a brilliant splash of colour,
Frome palest pink to brightest orange.
Some stars will often steal the show –
The friendly Nene (Hawaiian Goose);
No fear of man, almost extinct,
Till Scott encouraged breeding pairs.
That shrill cacophony of sound
Which drifts across the shining lake
Is made by happy Whistling Ducks
That yearn to share their thrill of life !
Andean Geese in regal splendour,
Proud pairs that strut upon the shore,
Each one so full of self-importance
That smaller ducks will keep well clear.
Our visit now is near its end;
We bid farewell to feathered friends
And leave with glowing memories
Of Slimbridge on the Severn marsh.
IRONBRIDGE SHROPSHIRE
River Severn’s now a fishing spot.
Two centuries ago it was not.
The cradle of industrial revolution
Rocked fastest here - Iron construction
Arching proud - Telford’s bridge was born
Among the elder and the hawthorn.
Coal mines, furnaces, stony quarries,
Early train-tracks - sooty glories.
Now the river sweeps silent south
From hilly birth to ending mouth.
Smoke and soot have had to cease
River Severn has returned to peace
…………………………………………………………..
Note:
Ironbridge is the name of a small town on the River Severn
in Shropshire, England. It derives its name from the famous Iron Bridge, built 1779.