Cliffhanger

He pondered over the note he wrote,

Sat hunched and cold in his chair,

He nodded once as he read it then

And signed the bottom with flair,

The house was not even stirring then

As he rose, looked out at the sea,

It said, ‘By the time you see this, Jen,

I’ll be hanging from some old tree.’

 

Then he slipped on out to the breaking day

As the dawn was beginning to spread,

He should have been further along than this,

By now, he should have been dead.

He’d heard them stir in the attic room

When he’d come in late from the bay,

His wife and a lifelong friend of his

Who’d thought he was still away.

 

He’d heard the sound of them making love

As he crept to the attic door,

His face turned white in the passage light

As he sank to the passage floor.

The tears had welled at his eyes at last

As he crept back down the stairs,

He’d lost a friend and his woman, Jen,

And the love that he thought was theirs.

 

He wandered over the grassland there

To the woods at the edge of the cliff,

But not forgetting to take the coil

Of rope, he held at his hip.

He wondered how many times they’d met

While he was away at sea,

And laughed, the minute his back was turned

To leave him no dignity.

 

Then pictures rose in his troubled mind

That he shouldn’t have had to think,

He cursed himself, for he must be blind

When his friend had tipped her a wink,

The pain was really too much to bear

For he’d lost not one, but two,

He’d loved them both, she’d broken her oath

And his friend had betrayed him too.

 

He found a tree, hung over the cliff

That was old and gnarled and bent,

With a sturdy branch that would do the trick,

It was too late to relent.

He flung the rope and he made it fast

Then fashioned the hangman’s knot,

It would swing him out and over the sea

And send him where time forgot.

 

He tugged on the rope to test the branch

To see if it took his weight,

Dropped the loop down over his head

When a voice cried out, ‘Just wait!’

He turned to see his Jen on the path

That ran alongside the cliff,

‘What are you doing, my love, my love,

Is my love worth less than this?’

 

She said she’d gone for a walk that night,

Hadn’t been able to sleep,

‘Your friend is up in the attic room

With a woman from Warley Heath.

He only met her a week ago,’

She said, ‘and borrowed the bed.

He said that you wouldn’t mind, but I

Wasn’t impressed,’ she said.

 

He pulled the rope from over his head

And he hugged his woman tight,

‘I’m such a fool, but I thought that you

And he… It was such a fright!’

The sun beamed down and it seemed to say

That a love so strong was rare,

While a gnarled old tree drooped over the sea

With its rope, still hanging there.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

oh I am so relieved as I read the end of this - my heart went out to the old guy - a happy ending. Well penned.
The sun beamed down and it seemed to say
That a love so strong was rare,
While a gnarled old tree drooped over the sea
With its rope, still hanging there.

Think that's my favorite bunch of lines especially the second to last - the little internal rhyme. Wonderful flow to this one. It reads so easily.

[VALORMORE DE PLUME]

Great story, in verse. Only needs a catchy tune to hit the top ten. Glad I came to visit.

[Avinash]

Every doubt must be validated with evidence and should be established as fact only then a decision should be made. But that seldom happens, most of the times we go with presumptions. It was an eye opener for all those who want to learn the lesson on faith.

[Penlady]

Remember that old saying: "Never assume!" I always love the ending twists you use...to save the day...or in the case of going good...go the other way!

[Marie]

I am just as relieved as TL Boehm. I know your poetry too well, and I was afraid Jen would arrive just as he went over the cliff.