Futile entreaties Stories

The river slowly slipped between banks of dappled green, Oblivious to the noisy world of men, The sibilant sound of its sojourn among the reeds Like kisses in the air or the swish of skirts, Its comforting susurration, gentle counterpoint To the clamour of my wildly beating heart. In its long journey from the excitement of its birth Long ago in the cool of alpine meadows, It must have heard many similar stories to mine, T...