Sweet water of Silver Spring, oh what soft soothing pleasures you bring

To my eyes my ears my thirsty lips

My tongue so long to taste your flowing delight.

While skins touches your smooth cascades beneath the soft shadows of night.

Your slender Arms hug the neck of Athlone way over on the left,

poemsWhilst George Town’s high hills caress your breast

Yet your cool clear waters bubble and constantly flow.

Where do you come from they asked, and where do you hasten to go

No one has ever answered, nobody seems to know.

Young ladies fear washing their hair, bending beneath your crystal flow

Shadowed curtains around them drawn, be it at nightfall or at early dawn

Chattering women washing their load.

On rocks smooth surfaces by the side of the road.

Valiant young men await their turn.

Sit on the culvert’s edge as they discover and as they learn.

Just one short leg away from hip to toe.

You burst up from the ground and hurry to go

By lush green trees while bending low.

They salute and bows in reverent show

Sumptuous, refreshing, sugary Sweet water of my unassuming Silver Spring

You wind your way over rocks and river Moss all live long day

Until you pour out of your glad waters, into the anxious jaws of Rio Sambre.

By E. L. Kelly. Feb 2016 

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Sweet water of Silver Spring, oh what soft soothing pleasures you bringTo my eyes my ears my thirsty lipsMy tongue so long to taste your flowing delight.While skins touches your smooth cascades beneath the soft shadows of night.Your slender Arms hug the neck of Athlone way over on the...

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