Fear Kept You Out Of Bounds Poem by Sylvia Lukeman

The water tumbled and fell
far below,
It sounded louder
than the countless rustling leaves
that skipped and danced before me.

Invisible birds
Shrieked and sang their news
to their singing invisible friends.
I, I sat on a wooden bench
Several paces from the edge of the path

The path curved silently away from me
Before me lay the DROP,
A tree-clad slope
Out of bounds to me.
'Come to the edge', the poet** wrote

But I will only quote him
But not obey his command.
'Come to the edge'! a beckoning finger
On a beckoning hand.

But I, I sat firmly on the bench
Curious as to what lay below
Below at the foot of the slope;
But it was out of bounds to me

I could still see the dancing leaves
And little scraps of dead bark,
Sunlight dappled all before me
But what lay below
Must stay hidden,
Fear has forbidden me to explore
Once more