charles river peninsula

FortunateHow fortunate I amMy forbears fancied themselvesTrustees of Reservations.How fortunate this peninsular bendReserved for sweet birdsong,Dense wood duck nesting seclusion,Circling hawk hunting ground.How fortunate the flashing colors Of gold finch and oriole orange.Every hue of green reflectedOn the dark mirror of river.Not overpowering beauty, butStand of oak, ledge of granite,Field of grass and water liliesFind their place in my heart.A lasting marriage deepenedDay by day over years shared,‘Til love touches all her moods,Warm sun, cool rain, blustery winds.How fortunate no oil Tempts corporate greed,Zoning forbids debasing pavement, The forests used long ago Have restored themselves. How fortunate a reservation Where the wood duck splashes Her pretended broken wing,An elaborate distractionFrom protected ducklings,And redwings chase the hawkFrom their collective nests.How fortunate we glide on plentiful waters,Rejoice in birdsong protected,Bathe in bursting green surroundsAnd fulfill our trust.