I stood upon the Riddian Bridge <br />That arched above the waterway, <br />And cast its red-bricked shadow <br />On those murky depths below. <br /> <br />Within the confines of the shade <br />I saw the fish that slowly swam, <br />Amongst the submerged weeds that wound <br />Along the silted bed. <br /> <br />The hawthorn lined the blossomed verge <br />That hung like freshly fallen snow, <br />And draped the wild and untamed bank <br />Beside the water's edge. <br /> <br />Where rapier reeds with emerald blades <br />Did rise above the lily quilt, <br />And there the moorhen sheltered <br />Almost hidden from my view. <br /> <br />Above the silver cotton clouds <br />Did cross the blue and brightly shone, <br />And fell in hushed reflections <br />On the surface of the spring. <br /> <br />I looked across the distant fields <br />And saw the shoots of corn that stood, <br />Their waving shafts emerging <br />From the soil of ruddy-brown. <br /> <br />And as I stood upon the bridge <br />And leaned against its red-bricked wall, <br />I listened to the silence there <br />For all about lay still.<br /><br />ANDREW BLAKEMORE<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/riddian-bridge/
