John Rickell

(I November 1931 / York)

The Water Mill


So calm the river
No rain since Mothers' Day,
Willow twigs in flower vases
Grand children and their daffodils.
Bread crumbs chased by ducklings,
Sophisticated swans and elegance
Float by and choose, un-coil their necks
Take the best, leaving crusts
To the rampant drakes,
Serene return to the middle pool.
Glide towards the mill
Its 'race smooth, glazed and dark,
The wheel un-turned for many years
Ferns and moss caught in its teeth
Slate tiles crashing to the cinder path
A warning sign, hid by brambles,
Never heeded, no longer needed
The steps long since gone.
Grace and dereliction combined,
Smooth white necks and angel wings
Rotting wood and rusty nails.

Submitted: Thursday, February 20, 2014
Edited: Thursday, February 20, 2014

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The Water Mill by John Rickell )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Remember..., Damian Murphy
  2. Love has power, hasmukh amathalal
  3. Uneasy Rider, Diane Wakoski
  4. Perfect, Awkward Reality, Simon Quperlier
  5. The Photos, Diane Wakoski
  6. Thank You Dad!, Damian Murphy
  7. Change Self Attitude and Find the World .., umaprosad das
  8. Lonely Is Me, Lilly Emery
  9. The Father of My Country, Diane Wakoski
  10. Life May Move, hasmukh amathalal

Poem of the Day

poet Emily Dickinson

239

"Heaven"—is what I cannot reach!
The Apple on the Tree—
Provided it do hopeless—hang—
That—"Heaven" is—to Me!

...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet John Burroughs

 

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]