Where The Hopkins Crawls Slow

Two miles from the Bluehole where into the sea it does flow The dark Hopkins waters at a snail's pace crawls slow Backed up by the sandbanks at the Pacific shore At it's widest point close to two hundred meters or more Towards the end of it's journey a deep and wide waterway It silently creeps seaward by night and by day Home to swamp-hen, coot and moorhen and where musk and black duck reside Birds that feel at home in waters still and wide Were i a poet of the Hopkins i would write A poem for lovers of poetry to read memorize and recite A waterway that was old in the dinosaur time That has been the inspiration of song, story and rhyme Slowly and silently it crawls on to it's destiny The vast ocean known as the Pacific sea.