The Waterfall

Mark Fennell

Feb. 24, 1997


flowing softly

down the hill


A world untouched by man,

The ferns surround us silently,

as if they know our seclusion must be complete


On my knees, I look upward into the face of a divine lady

I know I shouldn’t lose myself in such beauty,

but nothing else can draw my attention

I know I don’t deserve to claim such a woman for myself,

and yet I cannot allow anyone else to be alone with her

Being divine, she has grasped my soul, for all eternity


I take her hands, gently, and kiss them

Suddenly, I awake

I find myself in my own bed

And the lady of the falls?

She is sleeping soundly in my arms