“We made to climb the moon”

We made to climb the moon
I scampered high; she faltered
And, in hesitation, fell.
I looked back, I looked forward
The peak and goal was oh so near…
I raced to touch, and then raced back
She, hanging by one fingernail
Was lost before I halfway gained.
Lost her grip, and gracefully
Spiralled off into deep space.
I watched her fall with horror
Then straightened up.  Did I not win?
Did I not reach the tip alone?
I smiled out loud – she was spilt milk!
(Then scarpered home, rotting with guilt.)

June ’05

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Welcome…

This blog is the collection of my poetry and prose, in chronological order from most recent to oldest.

Constructive critique is actively encouraged!

I am usually singing words as well as writing them, and make lots of other art. You can find me & my other art at any of the below links. x

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All content on this blog © Rebecca Tilley, 2003-present

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