Venus in the nightsky is her diamond,
Raindrops on the branches her pearls,
Fallen fall leaves and feathers adorn her,
As she gaily dances with capers and twirls.

The monuments of beaver trees intrigue her
As much as the mottled mass & twigs on her den,
Which sits high over the wide river's edge,
With music of thunderous rapids, thunder clapping and wind.

Light copper waters at the river edges lapping
(Midstream frothy swollen and swirling),
Deliver her to the kingfisher swiftly,
Who caws and shrieks with thrilling territorial delight.

She is surely lonely in the riverwoods, her domain,
With the peaceful spirits and fauna where she reigns,
And with her wise man in the ancient oak tree,
Whose beauty revered wisdom makes her soul true and free.