A Coral Beach In Connemara Poem by Seán O Muiríosa
A Coral Beach In Connemara
The two of us alone on that stony Cheathrú Rua beach
On a July evening that almost seemed like my reason for being.
It was our last day together and the sun was burning strong.
The coral tucked snugly in under tranquil lapping waves
Like a well fitted carpet – well, at least in appearance –
For its prickle could ignite fires on tender bare feet.
But this day grit between my toes was of little pertinence
As we talked of life and our paths here, sharing tales,
Sharing moments that made us laugh until we cried.
And then you paused, a serious stare. An instant frozen forever:
Your golden hair blew gently in the passing sea breeze,
You looked at me intensely and said simply, “I’ll miss you.”
I could not speak, my throat was blocked.
I spoke only with my eyes when ours locked.
Our faces were ones that only a coral Connemara beach could remember.
The sea it glistened.
dear sean, thanks for commenting on my poem. i went to an irish governed school in sarawak, borneo years back. perhaps, some irishness has distilled into me. Your golden hair blew gently in the passing sea breeze, - i love this line. honour your irishness.
This is excellent Sean. Long lines all the way through so beautifully descriptive then a very simple short last line to close the poem. I like it alot P.s How do I get a Faidh into my name? Seamus
Sean you have done really well in this poem.. beautiful..
Sean, I really appreciate the line about coral under your feet: 'For its prickle could kill tender bare feet. ' I'm from Ft. Lauderdale, FL and have experienced that feeling many times! Your poem made me feel like I lived the moment right along with you! Good work. Amanda
Sean, I think this is a fine evocative moment you have captured-nice to see a few structural considerations in a poem!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 6:18:31 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Sean, I think your muse lives in Connemara. This is a lovely, haunting poem. Raynette