David Lacey

Rookie - 224 Points (2/3/87 / Middlesbrough)

Stream - Poem by David Lacey

Strange time it is to sit and think,
All time we are forgetting, (drink)
As silver sliver comes the river
Down the mountains side.

And into folding dreams
The river slowly seems,
To be building new the mountain
At the bottom of the stream.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, March 31, 2013

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