Amazing Kids! Magazine

The Lonely Stream

By Andrew Scrugham, age 12, Tennessee

 

I linger by the water in a far-off land of snow.
The lonely stream brings me comfort; we have nowhere else to go.
We’re both deserted, left behind; it seems we’re at an end.
But someday when the flowers bloom, we’ll wander past the bend.
The lonely stream ripples along, all its strength drawn near.
The clear blue water hangs on tight, always giving a hearing ear.
The pebbles on the bank shine bright in the starry night.
The murky water seems to whisper as the river and the rocks unite.
I sit there by the lonely stream, pondering all day long.
The clouds fly by like wisps of smoke, singing a slow, sad song.
As darkness falls, the lonely stream refuses to give in.
He’ll keep on working, day after day, not caring how long it’s been.
The lonely steam supports me, as a nail supports a beam.
We sit there as the time flies by, just me and the lonely stream.

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