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