Silent as they've grown in deep water's bed <br />seeing up above the bottom, down a sledge <br />their short-sight shoots, its branches zooms <br />to tame the blue sky as it blooms. <br />Their delicate roots crawl in softly mud <br />where tiny fishes gathered as their habitat; <br />they stand like twigs of those green meadows <br />a sight-reach pole beneath, in a space windows. <br />Their bodies when cut, knitly weaved and daubed <br />will surely serve like a shepherd's swampland hub; <br />with sticky slime and pitch they merrily glow <br />Oh yes, they flag in beauty at riverbank's brow.<br /><br />Gil Gregorio<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bulrushes/
