Pinnacle…

The highest point one can get,

Top of the mark, top of the hill,

To reach its zenith, no not the poet,

This too shall fit the bill…

To yell as for an echo, from this high point,

Our voices must be quite shrill,

For deep bass voices rarely are re-heard,

Must be the sound, it does not reverberate,

Off the sides of the rocks, or the owner of the bass,

Just has not got the apparent,

To make himself heard, skill…

Speaking of skill, I seem to have the one,

To take words at a glance and make them as some,

As here I sit, on my computer, thanking the gods,

It has returned without major repair,

So here again I sit, rapt with fascination,

Doing what I always do, just sitting with a blank stare

High on the pinnacle of my existence, must have climbed the stairs…

                  © ed-2/26/04