in a lovely little meadow
in the farthest little nook
lived an little bitty river
that was called the babbling brook
she wasn't hardly noticed
cause she wasn't really loud
wasn't hard to overlook her
she got lost among the crowd
and you'd think that she'd be happy
making little splashing sounds
with her little rocks a-rattling
and the green grass all around
but she wanted to make music
and present it to the world
a big and full cantata
with the edges sweetly curled
but she should just be thankful
with that little route she took
for nothing is more magic
than a simple babbling brook
| 
Email this Poetry
| 
Add to reading list
