Waterfront

A fun little 36 line poem that rhymes about wildlife near the waterfront.

This entry won!
Writer's Cramp Entry March 24, 2026 Using the prompt: Use in your poem or story the following - bold for tomorrow's judge: high trees, waterfront, young birds, beavers. Use Nature as one of your genres.

36 Lines.

Waterfront

Beneath the high trees, tall and wide,
where quiet shadows softly hide,
the waterfront in stillness stays,
wrapped in slow and silver days.

The water moves along the shore,
returns again, then once more,
as if it searches, soft and deep,
for something it can always keep.

Two young birds rise, unsure, untried,
with trembling wings they test the sky,
their fragile flight, both brave and new,
held up by hope they never knew.

Along the bank, in patient weavers,
work steady hands of silent beavers,
they shape and build with quiet art,
each branch a small and beating heart.

The trees stand watch, both calm and wise,
no questions asked, no hurried sighs,
they hold the world in rooted grace,
and time moves slow within this place.

But linger long and you may see,
a shift beneath the harmony,
one bird delays, then tries again,
as if it carries something within.

The water drifts a broken piece,
then lets it go, and will not keep,
the beavers pause as if they hear,
an echo once that lingered near.

The trees still stand, yet something stays,
a deeper hush beneath their gaze,
not all is lost, not all remains,
but life still flows through quiet pains.

And in that truth, both soft and clear,
the world feels closer, somehow near,
not whole, not perfect, yet somehow,
more tender than it once knew how.


Disclosure: The cover photo is assisted ai digital art by TeeM