Written by: Raymond Westley

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.