The Meandering Stream of the Celts

An ancient glacier's droplet melts,
form icy rills that trickle down
pristine alpine mountains of the Celts.

Tumbling 'neath evergreens of fir
creating little splashing falls,
Flowing into nooks and crannies
o'er ageless rocks and lichened walls.

Now in a tumbling stream they twirl
meandering down highland leas,
in happy eddies their waters swirl.

Here the grasses are always sweet
and the sun brings long summer days,
Where winter's herds of pastured sheep
for centuries have come to graze.

Winding down deep forests and fens
where boars, red deer, and long eared hares,
quietly sleep in their briared dens.

At last their flow through lowlands ease
rich in bearded grains and wild seeds,
Here the birds of feathers nesting
find all of their sustaining needs.

The glacier droplets end their flow
back to their birthplace in the sea,
blurry salt and sweetened swirls prove so.

Here new droplets in seas abide
await their turn to mountains high,
In heavy laden clouds they'll ride
falling down when their time comes nigh...