What the hell was I was thinking
holding a book in one hand,
Trying to cross the little stream
about ten feet which spanned
Wanted to go to the other side
jumping over the cropping stones,
First jump was all right I thought
talking to myself, as I was alone.
The next stone in the line
was covered in algae and moss,
It sent me slipping down,
into the river Ely for a toss.
Cold, soaking wet and in shock,
somehow got back to my feet,
Embarassed with my shins and ego hurt
towards home I made a hasty retreat.
CR VGA
25/7/09
Ansari Court
Ely river flows next to my apartment in Ynysmaerdy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem