An island Eden

Cut off whenever high tide

Covered the causeway.

A made-to-measure retreat

Out of sight of prying eyes.

 

The tide receded

We drove across the wet strand

Parking among dunes.

Our van inadvertently

Bedded in axle-deep sand.

 

It stuck fast. Fiz laughed.

We drank a bottle of rum.

Watching the sun set

Over Árainn Mhór. Blowing

Kisses at the Milky Way.

 

A wave smoothed rock pool

Waist deep. Fresh spring water filled.

Heated by the sun

Offering hours of delight 

Became our hot tub, lido, spa.

 

We lived like sand boys

Happy, naked and drunken

Running and swimming

Campfire singing and dancing,

Loving. Lost in each other.

 

At holiday’s end

A local towed the van free.

He refused a ‘drink’.

Tapping his wallet, all smiles,  

“These photos of you will do.” 

 

Driving home silent

Leaving Donegal behind

Was hard for us both

Fiz said, “Bye” at Biggleswade

I never saw her again.

 

I heard she’s wed now

With a son, The spit of me.

I wrote, no replies.

I hope she remembers us

On our beach in paradise.