I love to be in Arillas

With its rolling countryside,

A sleepy village by the sea,

A perfect golden beach.

In North WestCorfu

The evenings are stunning

As the red sun melts

Into a tranquil sea.

 

Yet a storm at night

Is invigorating!

How the bright forks and flashes

Light up the sky!

Then when it is spent

And all washed out

The delicious hot sun

Never far away.

 

For the price of a drink

You get a choice of pools.

The walks over headlands

With heavenly views.

Tavernas serve food to die for

At prices surprisingly low,

The friendliest locals ever

Treat us just like family…

 

Half a mile along the sands

An au naturel section

Surrounded by cliffs

Formed of a grey substance

That when mixed with water

Makes lovely green mud.

Some smother their bodies in it

And bake there on the beach

Before rinsing in the sea.

Good for the skin

Or so they say

And I am inclined to agree…

 

Arillas is a state of mind,

Relaxing and trouble free.

It gets under my skin

And into my blood.

It causes me to return

Again and again.

It causes me to yearn

When I’m not there.

It causes me to…

 

Write poetry…

 

 

(My first attempt at writing a non-rhyming poem.  Not too sure I caught the hang of it though!!)