Steeple Climbing
Step by step I climbed your tower
Fearing ever to look down.
Lofty heights are not for me,
I prefer places closer to the ground.
My knees get weak, they turn to jelly,
My stomach begins to quiver.
Angelic wings painted on my back
They’ll not keep from falling hither.
Balancing on the steeple top
I feel my foot now slipping.
Please excuse my lack of grace
Tumbling from that narrow place.
Eyes grow wide, jaws may drop,
As I crumple to the ground.
High expectations I’ll not meet.
Prefer to sit at the Master’s feet.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.