Rural Renegade

Slow the river runs and rages

Through that rural renegade

Deep the river ploughs and cuts

Until needs newborn are harvested

And, if dealt with wisely

Are spent as musts

Below the river suns and sages

Dare and, well, there forever casting secret spells!

And, like a sweet slumberous sleep newly formed

Are anchored, here and there a solemn, yet happy hope

A hardy rope, each they are that act to hold and guide

Each and every promised spell to surface

Where the rapids rage the most

(unfinished)