Descriptive writing piece please offer criticism

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The silver backed stream dragged its murky underbelly against the rippling bladderwrack fronds and moss stained stones. Ocassionally a stone shaken loose by the frothy wake of the water sent a turgid plume of mud expanding from the bed before being whisked away by the stream's tireless onward thrust.

Golden scaled fish pushed upstream elusive and intangible. They surfaced momentarily as the stream flung itself between the jagged rocks and their scales flared in the light.

The sentient stream Olioqui was ancient and its fluid mind carried scattered memories of its gurgling eruption from the rock struck by the priests during the solstice festival. It had been locked in stone for millenia comingling with granite and basalt, its body stretched taut in the dark prison. The priest caste fashioned the rock into a shrine and carried libations up the mountain track each evening touching foreheads to earth and lips to stone.

Finally the head priest had bludgeoned the rock with a metal tool and many hands chiseled until the sun sunk lower than the horizon to melt into the oblivion beyond the lid of the world. Finally cracks splintered across the rock's surface singing headily as they went freeing olioqui from his prison.

Cool!

How about "...a stone shaken loose by the water's frothy wake..." instead of "...a stone shaken loose by the frothy wake of the water..."?

The rhythm of the first sentence is wonderful.

third paragraph first sentence is a run on.

Interesting, I like it. It feels like it could use a few tweaks and minor improvements, but overall I like your writing style.

Actually, third paragraph first sentence is not a run on, just a compound that could use a comma and that has a very long participle at the end. Besides, despite what elementary grammar teachers say, run-ons are usually just fine as long each of the clauses are distinct.

Love the writing, it has a very flowing texture to, just like the stream you are describing.

Wow thanks everyone! I'll post more if I get round to writing!

An additional bit in which the stream passes through a canal.


But for the ruffling of wind on water there are no tides here, no heaving breakers to drag foaming jetsam ashore. There are only the abandoned iron hulks, blackened smokestacks
and huge engines squatting on oil slicked gear ribbed haunches. This is where the alcoholics nurse their wounds with scotch and watch the slender necked apparitions glide white hot against jet black waters. This is where they haunt the curdling waters behind the softly fussing riverboat which lumbers with groaning progress.