The Bridge Over A Pond

Seemingly sightless ponds

Green grass and cool breeze

A time I find quite fond

I feel the coming freeze

That follows the blowing storm

A storm that will churn the water

And The rain that will buffet my form

Yet I will be filled with laughter

as accomplishment fills my chest

I feel the bark as I take a rest

I am satisfied with my work

The calm after a well-done job.

On the pond sits rotting trelliswork

The bridge which time is trying to rob

Beneath the bridge lies forever death

The trelliswork bares its rotting teeth

Hunger lies in sightless eyes

The bridge screams for more

From the wooden lips comes a soundless cry

I feel happy and yet sore

No matter the weather I work with glee

Though when I’m done I’m stained red

I will lose the color to the rain I see

I used to be anxious but now I feel no dread

Maybe I will bring ten

Or perhaps even eleven

I cannot wait to obey

I will never be satisfied

I must go and hunt in the fray

The bridge will grow sour if made to wait

It is out of my hands

I must get the bait

And I must obey the commands.