Indie Scribe Magazine April 2015 | Page 41

Harold, are you asleep?

Harold, I remember your leap,

It may have killed you

But it was a brave thing to do.

Two promontories ran high into the sky

He leapt from one rock to the other

And fell to the sea’s smother.

Harold was always afraid to climb high,

But something urged him on,

He felt he should try

I would not say that he was wrong

Although he succeeded in doing nothing but die

Would you?

Ever after that steep

Place was called Harold’s Leap.

It was a brave thing to do.

Harold’s Leap.