Donegal Eden

Part true – part fiction.

An island heaven
cut off whenever high tide
covered the causeway.
Liz said, “That is where we’ll camp,
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.
Liz laughed. We cracked a
bottle of Captain Morgan
watching the sun set
over Árainn Mhór. Blowing
kisses at the Milky Way.
A spring water filled
waist deep, wave smoothed, sun heated
rock pool – just right for
bacchanale afternoons 
in 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
the local who towed the van
would not take a ‘drink’.
Tapping his pocket, all smiles, 
“These topless shots of you’ll do.”
The silent drive home
leaving Donegal behind
was hard for us both
Liz ‘goodbyed’ at Holyhead
I never saw her again.
I heard she’s wed now
got a son looks just like me.
I wrote. No reply.
I hope she remembers us
on our beach in paradise.


© coolhermit 2023
Views: 1623
critique and comments welcome.
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Great tale woven into a poem. Bitter-sweet, funny and sad, excellent poem.

Rachel 🙂


Hah! I see what you mean about exposing yourself in your poetry. Thou art a better man than I, Gunga Din! (Perhaps)

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