In the country

When looking at a country setting, some
May see the fields and watch a wandering stream
Meander slow, wondering where it’s come
From; and whether the water is quite clean
Enough to scoop up with their close-cupped hands:
The chillness dripping from their fingertips;
They’ll see the ancient bridge and how it spans
Both pasture and meadow, as the time slips
At a bucolic pace; but I observe
A place to press you down into the dirt
And have you in the mud of any field;
I’ll take you hard in meadows; it may hurt,
Unless resistance ceases as you yield
Your rural idyll, knowing I’ll preside
Over your form when in this countryside