Emma's Dell
A poet roamed by rushing brook
Early springtime morning. The sound
Seemed softer than it should,
Tempered by, tempering,
Eager buds, new greens all around.
Still bare trees, they tempered too.
Contrast breeds content.
Then round a turn mad rushing brook
Maddened beast and bird.
Sound seemed of the air-
Like air, would never cease.
Green seemed of the rocks.
Content is content.
A cottage overlooked the brook.
'My thoughts at least are mine.
I've told them to the shepherds.
How contrast can contain content.
How content is content.
Pondering perhaps my words
Years after we are spent
They'll call the dell not what I call it,
They'll call it WILL'S DELL EMMA.'
poem by Douglas Scotney
Added by Poetry Lover
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