WALL
On the first day I stood beneath you,
Your height hoarding the air
The sky no more than a bruise
That threatened thunder
Your top crowned with glass
Like the coronet of the king of Walls
Shark's teeth sharp and snarling down,
Daring me climb and I must admit I was afraid
But promised to return
On the second day
I brought rope, pick and axe
Only to find you were made of the purest crystal
Your surface smooth and
Mirroring my frustration
As hour, upon hour, upon hour
Of axe and pick and cursing
Hour, upon hour, upon hour
Not one impression could I make,
Not one foothold could I gain
Into your imperious, insolent heart and
Your spikey grin wider than ever
All attempt to climb you postponed
I vowed I would return
On the third day
Spade and shovel I brought
To burrow beneath you
I'll bury you yet
(c) Stephen Evans
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