Author Albert Durrant Watson Roar of the flood,A rock-wraith weird in the mist,A bow of light,The waters that curve and twistAt the base of the height,And through it all,The soul's still voiceAnd its ceaseless call. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments