A    SWATIAN  MUSING

Sitting beside her,

In the mild morning sun,

As the bees hum, a goat bleats

She murmurs gently to me.

I feel soothingly happy and

Greatly attracted towards her.

Sometimes she is beautiful,

Soft, loving and full of laughter.

Sometimes she’s harsh,

Angry and full of hatred.

Gushing and frothing,

As if in a storm.

Yet I trust her, she won’t harm me.

I dreamily gaze at her charming blue eyes,

Sitting beside her,

As she gently flows by;

The beautiful river.