The brook
Has dried up
And the barren shore
Calls to the desolate moor.
Once the water ran pure
While children frolicked on the shore.
But the sun has gone
And time moved on.
A golden age of delight?
The night
Is always there
For those who care
To stare
At the distant horizon.
The dark
Is forever rising
K Morris - Poet 
Wonderful! 😀
Thank you Tess. I am glad you liked it. Best wishes. Kevin
You are more than welcome.