#WritcoPoemPrompt6
The river that flows down the hill,
Is never able to be a moment still,
The rocks and pebbles at it's edge,
Lie as steady as the dead,

... [enter Honeybee]

Dew creeps along the streams,
Like ghosts dancing in summer breeze,
The water is cool its aroma of moss,
The ripples and waves continuosly lost,


Owls hooting to...