A little pond in front of the bridge below the side of the road,
Cut off from the river at a ridge where the watershed flowed.
Hid away stored from shore, adrift from its own mother's gift,
Its beauty still intact; a child still in fact, but its life is unsowed.
Cut off from the river at a ridge where the watershed flowed.
Hid away stored from shore, adrift from its own mother's gift,
Its beauty still intact; a child still in fact, but its life is unsowed.