Meander is my name
Meander is my name, for it's what I do best.
I'm true... but not straight.
I bend... without breaking.
I am mostly content within my confines.
I rise only when the tide of my emotions require.
Like the time, in 42' when I strayed into the country side.
Only later to return tired to my bed.
Passing the quay at Meander, my namesake town,
I slip under the bridge on my way to Jackeys Marsh.
Always moving... never straight, always bending.
Menander is my name, for it's what I do best.