Rope Bridge

This poem was inspired by a recent school trip to Germany, when I was standing on the country’s largest rope bridge. I have been told a lot of times that the adjective “good” isn’t descriptive enough, but then I felt that there was no better word.

I see it as solid

Maybe that’s odd


Mountain Kings dwarf our solitude

With their own stoic sleepiness

And I am not afraid

Of insignificance


Everything is too good for that.


Dear underrated adjective

Let me colour you in with the contented day

And wrap you with the smell of cut grass

Now I understand.

I will tie you up in the shoelaces of new boots,

Bury you in a midnight novel idea,

Watch you rise in my brain

Like the everyday sun across these

Battered slats,

Crash through you

Like dead leaves

Splash through you

Swimming pools on summer days,

I will taste your one simple sound

Takeaway and salt and family chatter

I will stand with you

Lean across the ropes and count tree tops

And see how much is


You demand nothing from anyone

You are pronounceable



You are a word with without prejudice

You are not needing an alternative

Because if this day is good

Then it is beautiful.