Quadrille: Better a Stroll Through That Lonesome Valley Than a Fall From Grace — a poem




A steeplejack a-once was I.
And lucky t’was I didn’t die.
I hung from steeples, chimneys
clung quite steeply… dear.

A jack can climb,



descend –
for we cannot fly.

Now wander I
through steeplebush
deep; my tea nicely….


* * *

It’s Quadrille Night at dVerse Poet’s Pub, and Mish, our barkeep, bids us go “steep.”

26 thoughts on “Quadrille: Better a Stroll Through That Lonesome Valley Than a Fall From Grace — a poem

  1. I like the way you shaped the poem, where there is a wider base then the climbing, then the slower descent. Quite an exhilirating profession I would imagine it would be, steeplejack!


  2. Wow steeplejack! I have always wondered how these people manage to climb tall structures in order to get work done. Great quadrille, Charley! ❤️


  3. Thanks for bringing in “steeplejack” to the mix. I hadn’t thought of that one. I couldn’t help but try to sing to this as I descended the quadrille….carefully.


  4. I was glad I got to meet Jack, I am glad he never fell, but I wonder why he left us, was it his heart, a wolf in the steeplebush, a lagamorph borne illness, or hemlock in his tea. Did he just run out of time, or just ran out of words? 🤔.
    Most ironic is that he was about to say…


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