Hushity Hoo

Hushity Hoo


Flickety flow doth the river go,
Back-forth and round and round,
A ripple to its height then low,
Round our little fingers is it wound.

Snickety crack rolls the stones,
Beautifully clunking on the riverbed,
Sunlight giving the various tones,
Scattered, so pretty, on red.

Brushedy thunder plays the waterfall,
So still, we draw ever nearer,
Laying so long for once tall,
Like the baby in the basket of wicker.

Wickety wop goes the bodies,
Flesh on rock, a final play,
Where do we go but the seas,
For the river washes us away.

Time consoles me and you,
With only the whispered hushity hoo.