Climbing the Ladder
It was an experience near to death
With swirling water and mind
Choking and snatching at breath
My eyes and voice unable to find
The pool attendant unconscious of my distress
Innocently my granddaughter looked on unaware
As my limbs thrashed with stress
And I gasped for air
Down I sank to the very tiles
And kicked upwards in fear
Was this to be my funereal style
No way would I choose a watery bier
So grimly I pushed my head back
And fought the water for my life
Spluttering I broke the surface through this knack
To grab the bar with joyous relief.
Never has the world looked to me
So vital and worth so much care
As when I gulped in with lungs free
To drink that blessed air
To drink that blessed air.
Copyright © Denis Bruce | Year Posted 2016
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