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.