Little River
clear enough to see right through
boulders in the way
no matter
as water flows around
smooth stones
in other sizes too
line your banks
as you twist and turn
ebb and flow
rushing at the falls
rippling in the shallows
first on one side
the the other
as the road twists
and turns
much like you
Little River
whose course it follows
winding alongside
whispering to the trees
at the base
of the Great
Smoky Mountains
Written longhand in my trip journal on the morning of June 6, 2011 as my family of four wove through a driving tour of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. It's written on the page across from, "In the Smokies". Such beautiful soothing scenery. A Healing Place with green everywhere you look and the soothing sounds of Little River meandering alongside.
"In the Smokies"
http://my.opera.com/jbaird/blog/2011/06/14/in-the-smokies
© 2011, Janean Baird Turquoise Tangles
Turquoise Tangles 
Anonymous writes:Janean,I'm continuing to marvel at this out-rushing of words and images. Yup. "Here come da book."Janet Riehl
Thank you, Aunt Janet. Feels right. Like it's all coming together the way it's meant to. Love, Janean
I would play for ever in such little rivers as a child! I'd use the rocks to build dams, watch the pool fill, and then breech the dam and watch the water run off… Or not, as time would have it.Your poem reflects – I feel – that mood very well.
Originally posted by bentrein:
i played in clear streams as a child too. Especially on one particular tent camping adventure somewhere in Missouri. I played by and in that stream for hours. Magical time. I can still recall the clear cold water, smooth stones and see it in my mind's eye.
🙂 Me too.
🙂