O’er the white sands,

Deduru has shrunk

To a string of pools

Waist-deep, clear to the pebbled bed,

Shaded by the mighty kumbuk

Whose octopus roots

Clutch the rocky banks

In tight embrace.

The great silence is broken

As we cavort in the cool waters

Lost to the everyday world.

Stormy weather!

Waters thundered clown river

Leaping causeways

Breaking banks

Snapping trees

Rampaging o’er the countryside

In elemental fury!

When the river’s force is spent

Floods subside

Flotsam and jetsam

Reek of disaster,

On a kumbuk limb

A ragged plantain tree

Hangs crucified.

Kamala Gunasekera

Nugegoda.

They shook their heads in the negative, saying in unison “tell us please miss, do tell”.

“Once upon a time a little squirrel mom had a tiny baby who was a little rambunctious; he would leap out of the nest to roam, which was on a branch over the river, one day the little squirrel fell into the river. His mother ran down crying to save him, by putting her tail in and trying to empty the river”…………

Nalini Damayanthi Mahawaduge

day and night

the devotees swarming

her sacred waters,

invoking

healing for stricken limbs

and cleansing

for guilt-ridden souls.

Among them,

a couple

with a toddler,

deferred to

the rite of

holy bathing.

The river’s benevolence

accommodated all,

notwithstanding

how they partook of

her magnanimity.

Back at home,

the child broke out

in blisters.

Herpes was

the diagnosis.

The father

beat his brow,

at a loss.

Was it fair

that the river

spurned his piety?

Then, enlightenment

flashed.

They had washed

the litter off their minds

but left to the river

the clutter of their travel!

Just deserts.

K. Liyanage

carrying triplets

good-bye.

She passes majestically

between two countries.

Her dress, greenish

studed with minerals,

foamy and frilly.

Maple trees stand,

guard of honour.

Autumn, waves,

colourful flags.

Embraces a child

Goat island,

before jumping,

hands apart

into a basin,

fitty meteres down.

Unhurt.

The triplets are born.

Christened,Niagara falls.

Her son, Horse Shoe falls

Magnificent.

Daughters,American falls

and Bridal veil falls.

Adorable.

She leaves the son to Canadians

Daughters to New-Yorkers.

Leaving mother, lake Erie

She travels, thirty six miles

To her king,lakeOntario.

He embraces, her Majesty

QueenNiagara River.

Kshemali Nanayakkara de Silva

Marveling her beauty

When the sun smiles

The mirror in me

Adds luster to

Her lissome body.

Often they indulge

In my refreshing coolness

But it is she whom

They admire

To my chagrin.

Though often I feel blue

I placidly contain the

Massive onslaught

Of her fall on to my lap

Sheathed in a smoky spray

Over crag n crust

I keep flowing with serenity

Except when the rains

In a fury inflate me.

May be she’s the bride

And I am the maid

But don’t I also

Deserve accolades?

Keerthi Wijekulasuriya

Facing the lofty mountain, opposite my humble abode,

I glanced up to see the thickening black clouds

Burst open and buckets-full of rain pour

Generously giving comfort to the crusty earth below.

Gazing at the now blazing setting sun on the opposite side

The streaks of water gushing thro’, flowing down and sometimes hiding from sight

Were silver and branched like the prong-horn of an antelope.

Winding it’s way-down now, unstoppable, toppling with it, blobs of earth and rockstones too

And finally gushing down to meet the mighty river, with its wide expanse to swallow them whole.

Sheila Bandaranayake

Withered hands turning

Over a faded photo album

A smile creases her brow

As she sees a robust, smiling

Woman caressing her baby son yet, that was long ago

He is a man now, with

Family to care for

She cannot expect to become an additional burden

So in silence she waits

For the masters call

Teardrop following teardrop

Into the river of life

Doreen Peiris