That misty dawn the cold did cling so wet
On rising banks beside the barren trees.
A grassy track weathered to form a mess
Became a vantage point to who believe.
Beside St. Peter’s church the river swelled,
A pacing flow of squirming leathered eels.
Now, quiet warnings seemed to ring those bells,
Demanding wariness of what is real.
Anticipation sang in longing veins,
Though with the rising sun the words did hush.
But then, just as the song began to wane,
A wind whipped up a sudden watered rush.
An early morn’ lifted two hearts who saw,
From up on river banks, the Severn bore.
* The Severn bore is a tidal bore seen on the tidal reaches of the River Severn in south western England. It is formed when the rising tide moves into the funnel-shaped Bristol Channel and Severn Estuary and the surging water forces its way upstream in a series of waves, as far as Gloucester and beyond.
Bores are present on about 130 days in the year, concentrated on the days immediately following the new and full moon. (Wikipedia)
I love it, when a poem “shows” me something or somewhere, I didn’t know or have been.
I really love the description at the beginning, and the feeling of anticipation that followed.
It felt like a beautiful scenery that can’t be captured by a picture. I really enjoyed this!!