Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Holding your warmth

Holding your warmth (mp3)

I stand in my kitchen,
bronzed feet cold on cream tiles.
Sipping camomile tea from your favourite mug,
I clasp it tightly
holding your warmth.

Looking out the window to the stillness of night,
thoughts of you unravel
and I am back in the mountains of Tenerife
as we gaze in wonder
at El Teide.

Almond blossoms circle snow peaks,
the burgundy rock-face ablaze with wildflowers,
trees of white heather rooted in dank earth,
the wind catching clouds, hurling them across our path
and the cold, shivering in my shorts
as I pose for a photo, under a dragon tree.

What fun
to find a mountain cafe
where we feast on traditional gofio,
zuppa de pollo and tortilla.
Through shuttered windows,
moss hangs from trees
as thick fog swirls, skyward.
We shiver back to the car
laughing and joking,
delighting in tastes of authentic Tenerife
and slightly chilled by the eerie
northern terrain.

Heading south to warmer climes,
we pass sleepy terra cotta towns
luminous in gliding sunshine.
My ears pop when we round terraces
stacked with bananas ripening
an expanse of apricot fields
stretching before us.
Great plantations straddle the hills
sweeping down to the coast.

Palm trees sigh in baking heat,
Bougainvillea cascade
slopes in hot pinks and reds
as we drive through parched valleys
of cacti and silver aloe vera,
down to a turquoise sea.

I can hear the waves mounting craggy rocks,
the surge of surf spitting and splaying
onto the black lava beach.
I feel my feet burning on hot sun-kissed sand
as I leap, sprinting my way to the water.

I see fishing boats rocking in the cove.
The white-washed village set in adjacent hills
slumbering in sizzling heat.
I feel sun on my back and a faint smell of lotion.
I hear your voice call my name.
I turn, and you smile, camera poised.
Watching you, I bask in our affection

I turn to make more tea.
I feel a deep serenity.
As I look out the window a magenta sky
melts the darknesss.
Ribbons of red, orange and purple
burn into a blazing sun.
It is morning in Greystones.
I miss you,
our time together sustains me,
holding your warmth.

Maire Morrissey-Cummins
April 28, 2011


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  2. AnonymousJune 25, 2011

    Love this too, so so special

  3. Thanks Rachael:)) Maire