There was a secluded little lake near <br />My school when I was young; every <br />Saturday I would be there, a weekly <br />Visit to take in the calming effect <br />Of its tranquility; its miror surface <br />Which afforded a good view of the <br />Sprinting of tilapias as they noticed <br />My arrival and the fallen trees with <br />Their subteranean upright branches, <br />Twigs and leaves which when greeted by the wind <br />Twisted like the tail of an enthusiastic <br />Dog heralding its master's arrival. <br />Stones I would throw into the lake <br />Creating large rings running towards <br />The riparian field filled with white <br />Sand, bamboo and rubber trees; a little <br />Sojourn which refreshed my mind for another <br />Week of gruelling lessons and homework.<br /><br />john tiong chunghoo<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-lake-3/
