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The Water Tower

As I stand on step number one, I feel the warmth from the setting sun. Another foot forward, step number two. I pause a while to enjoy the view. I turn my head for one last time, As I start on up, my tedious climb. I hold the wall, there are no railings, Another of the tower's failings. Does it lean to the left, or the right? I wouldn't risk it in the dead of night! The room at the top is a bit damp, But anything's good if you're a tramp. The wall is warm as it touches my arm. All is peaceful, and I feel so calm. Because of a piece of bread, and a sip of wine, For the moment at least all this is mine. 2001

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Raymond Westley

Date: 2/11/2013 9:40:00 AM

Hello Dave. Your comment has made me think of other peoples interpretations of the written text. Thank you for your comment. I wrote this poem while enjoying a sundowner at a friend’s home. The water tower overlooked a west facing valley. She was asked by a neighbor to demolish the tower as it did not fit in with the surrounding trees and scenery, although it had been there for many years. It is now a pile of rubble. I knew that it would not be there for much longer. Raymond

Dave Timperley

Date: 2/11/2013 1:30:00 AM

As I read each line without scanning down I saw you going to the scaffold to hang. The odd pictures the mind creates sometimes. While Is it here with the back patio doors open I can hear the wind rustling the olive trees in the garden,but I had to look to see if it was raining somehow from a clear blue sky. Lovely read Raymond. God Bless. Dave.