Anemones and Shells

When I recall my past
It was a sea-kissed life
of summers spent roaming
the Rabbit Burrows,
cradled by dunes
beyond Tramore strand,
adventures in the Saleens,
daring quicksand
of swimming with dad,
high jumping waves
falling, laughing
great gulps of salt water
free and fearless
in our bare bronzed years.


It was a salted life
of wave-washed castles,
of tide pools
alive with translucent shrimps,
carmine anemones
sucked tight to the rocks
periwinkles, hermit crabs, a world of shells
textured algae, salted,
crisping in the heat
our faces stinging with sand and hot sunshine
we spent hours with nets
exploring pools.


After months and years
of living near the sea
the landscape became part of me.
I watched fuchsias pirouette the breeze,
sea pinks sway on cliff tops
valerian, a candy floss pink,
sweetly scented.
We picked them
and pressed them into books.


I remember my childhood
with a skipping heart
when summers seemed to shine eternal.
The rock pools taught us to treasure nature
togetherness bred a strong sense of self.
We had a respect for the sea,
the wonder of freedom.
when I open a book
I often find a flower
and shells - this child is forever combing.