The west of ireland is my place of inspiration, Often misty and ethereal, Often wild and stormy, sometimes a sunny paradise with pristine white beaches, which you can often have to yourself. It was walking along one of these beaches admiring my barefeet that I wrote this short piece.
Browned by summer sun,
bare feet walking
on worn out paths of flattened sand,
leading to the waters edge
colored shells on the empty strand.
No other footprints here but mine,
no other eyes to gaze upon them.
freed from winter shoes they dip and skim
the waters edge
and standing straight with arms outstretched
I dive straight in.