Okay, this week's Poetry Bus is being driven by the heroine of two weeks ago, NanU.
The task this week is to write a poem somewhere where we would not normally write. Sadly, I have a tendency to write anywhere and everywhere, while doing the washing up, at traffic lights, in work etc, so I can't think of anywhere I don't write.
I will therefore proffer this pretty grubby, and somewhat dodgy, three month-old ticket. The poem was written on top of a Bavarian Alp, in the Kehlsteinhaus near Berchtesgaden, with stunning views on all four sides. I am not in the habit of writing on top of Bavarian Alps.
The Eagle’s Nest
So this is where he stood
and gazed out from his nest
after an ascent so treacherous,
one slip could have sent him
plummeting down the precipice.
Did he cast a stony face
upon the verdant valley
and tranquil lake below
and think beautiful thoughts?
Perched atop this jagged mountain
where the thin air, it is said,
often induces light-headedness,
did his eyes moisten
when he turned to his homeland,
almost within his grasp
yet so far from his lofty perch,
the endless vista, as always,
threatened by the muttering clouds?