Whiteman's Gull
In the depths of Whiteman's Gull
the air is moist and cool.
There is a quiet gentle peace,
reflections in a pool.
My watch is reading half past one
adventure lies ahead,
about a mile to the north
is where the journey led.
Enveloped by the dampest mist
on a sticky summer day,
to feel nature's coolest breath
is why I came this way.
Sun-drenched rainbows in the spray,
enticing to the eye,
high above a sliver of
the bluest summer sky.
Up ahead's a waterfall,
such beauty with such force,
cascading waters plummet down
predestined on a course.
Droplets tumble from the ledge,
tears that nature cries;
falling, falling from the edge,
before my very eyes.
Who is this image staring up,
reflected in a pool?
All the clocks are running down,
in youth and time;
there lies the duel.