One Night in June. (The spoken experiment continues.)
Posted: Sun Aug 11, 2019 9:35 am
The experiment continues. This comes from the same holiday as
The Clifftop Drummer.
This time you get the sound file and the written words.
https://soundcloud.com/user-593821894/o ... ne/s-f2k4q
One night in June
Climbing a cliff in the moonlight
gleefully 'living on the edge',
although, to be honest,
it's not that risky.
A route so familiar
after fourteen days of freedom
I could climb it blindfolded.
One last scramble before
I go home tomorrow,
to be a responsible citizen again
for the next fifty weeks.
Surf pale in the moonlight
many feet below. Magic!
Then it rains.
Only a fine drizzle,
but the secure gritty holds
are now a slippery paste.
The rain passes
but the slip remains.
My worn plimsolls
squirm against the restless surface.
I balance, suddenly aware of the risk,
take off the treacherous footwear,
stuff them into my shirt
and climb barefooted,
losing skin on sharp edges,
but finding the vital grip
to reach the top safely.
I lay on the wet grass of the path
whilst the full moon laughs at me.
One day, I know, this will told
as a great adventure.
But right now I know otherwise.
I've been living beyond the edge
where fortune, sometimes, favours fools.
Gyppo
The Clifftop Drummer.
This time you get the sound file and the written words.
https://soundcloud.com/user-593821894/o ... ne/s-f2k4q
One night in June
Climbing a cliff in the moonlight
gleefully 'living on the edge',
although, to be honest,
it's not that risky.
A route so familiar
after fourteen days of freedom
I could climb it blindfolded.
One last scramble before
I go home tomorrow,
to be a responsible citizen again
for the next fifty weeks.
Surf pale in the moonlight
many feet below. Magic!
Then it rains.
Only a fine drizzle,
but the secure gritty holds
are now a slippery paste.
The rain passes
but the slip remains.
My worn plimsolls
squirm against the restless surface.
I balance, suddenly aware of the risk,
take off the treacherous footwear,
stuff them into my shirt
and climb barefooted,
losing skin on sharp edges,
but finding the vital grip
to reach the top safely.
I lay on the wet grass of the path
whilst the full moon laughs at me.
One day, I know, this will told
as a great adventure.
But right now I know otherwise.
I've been living beyond the edge
where fortune, sometimes, favours fools.
Gyppo