It starts high up in the mountains
Coming down as a rivulet
Till it reaches the granite wall
And comes over the lip
Centuries of wearing it away
That have progressed into milleniums
Has smoothed all the once rough edges
And made a curved dip
In spring, just after the snow thaws
It comes down as a roaring torrent
So that people taking photographs
Have to shout to each other
In late summer after the sun
Has evaporated most of the moisture
The water comes down as a very fine veil
As fine as one that might cover
A young bride's face
But whether fast or whether slow
It all finally reaches the bottom
Where it splashes into a rock basin
That forms a deep round pool
The sort that in fantasy tales
That unicorns come, at twilight, to drink from
Then it's over the side of the sink
And down into the river
Where it slowly meanders its' way
Down to the sea.
Veil of of the young bride's face caught me too. Picturesque, with some great lines. Great falls, well captured. Patrick
'A young bride's face' caught for me the innocent/enlightement of this well-crafted piece. t x
Nice work Marilyn, covering the falls through the seasons, and how nature changes not only our perception, but the physical properties. Danny
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great piece of work that you did here. The Aber Falls was also another good title to have used. I'm glad to be reading your poetry.