Camping Near A Waterfall Poem by Robert J Meyer

One need not pin one's hopes on gravity.
Physics' magic may confirm the cataract
Booked by a gnarled elm and shredded pine
Midway up the mountain path.
The torrent rings with nature's passion -
Keyed to my own musings as I pass.

I tuck my scarf more tightly against the mist -
The cloth now spangled with diamond dew.
While no pen contains the rush,
The sun commands my march
As camp-ward I proceed.
And though I play the rake,
The waterfall is a showier gallant.