Freefall

The Maid of Zennor

I stand

Perched, precariously,

High, on a Cornish cliff.

Above, raucous gulls

Dogfight

Some unknown feathered war.

I have no cigarettes.

Far below me

Flows an endless

Emerald sea,

Steeped in mystery.

It seems

To call to me.

I have no cigarettes.

It may be

The angelic voice

Of the maid of Zennor

That calls to me.

I have the choice

To freefall to her.

I have no cigarettes.

Or it may be you

I hear

Clear above

The crashing waves,

A call

To save me.

I have no cigarettes.

I turn around,

And take a pace

Away, no freefall for me

Today.

I'll stop, find a shop,

And buy some cigarettes.

                                                      _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

A/N The maid of Zennor is a mythical Cornish mermaid.

Owain Glyn