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Location: Dublin, Republic of, Ireland

Wednesday, 14 May 2008


by Suzan Abrams

The fisherman, the farmhand and the flower in her band,
they all served to romance up their land of silvered sand.

He would have married her if he could,
the temptation of frolic for an ill-spent youth.

But her smile so dashing sent men's hearts a-crashing,
like boulders that led waves up, a giant fountain shoot.

All day long they skipped on the beach with the swing of dance,
a banana leaf for a serenade and he would grab his sudden chance.

A ring on her finger in the sunlight yonder,
would he remember to kneel, cry and duly surrender?

But he sang and he smiled and he teased her waiting heart,
as she dialled the cone shell for the sea that cried, they kiss and part.

Still, they caressed and they waltzed, like lanterns in the night,
and her desire soon awakened like sunrise from the light.

Could a playboy be reborn in the self-effacing dawn?
Soon he was gone and her heart lay sodden, shocked and torn.

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