Holding your Warmth


 

Holding Your Warmth

I stand in my kitchen,

bronzed feet on cold tiles.

I sip camomile tea from your favourite mug,

clasp it tightly,

holding your warmth.

 

Looking out the window

to the stillness of night,

thoughts of you unravel

and I am back in the mountains of Tenerife

as we gaze in wonder

at El Teide.

 

Almond blossoms circle snow peaks,

the burgundy rock-face ablaze with wildflowers.

Trees of white heather rooted in dank earth,

the wind catching clouds,

hurling them across the road,

and the cold,

shivering in my shorts

as I pose for a photo under a dragon tree.

 

What fun to find a mountain cafe

where we feast on traditional gofio,

zuppa de pollo and tortilla.

Through shuttered windows,

moss hangs from trees

as thick fog swirls, skyward.

We shiver back to the car

delighting in tastes of authentic Tenerife,

slightly chilled by the eerie

northern terrain.

 

Heading south to warmer climes,

we pass sleepy terra-cotta towns,

luminous in bright sunshine.

My ears pop as we round terraces

stacked with bananas ripening.

An expanse of apricot fields

stretching before us,

plantations straddle the hills

sweeping down to the coast.

 

Palm trees sigh in baking heat,

Bougainvillea cascade slopes

in hot pinks and reds,

as we drive through parched valleys

of tall cacti and silver aloe vera,

down to a  turquoise sea.

 

I can hear the waves mounting craggy rocks,

the surge of surf spitting and splaying

onto the black lava beach.

I feel my feet burning on hot sun-kissed sand

as I sprint my way to the water.

 

I see fishing boats rocking in the cove.

The white-washed village on adjacent hills

slumbers in sizzling heat.

I feel sun on my back and a faint smell of sun lotion.

I hear your voice call my name,

I turn, and you smile, camera poised,

basking in our affection.

 

I turn to make more tea.

I feel a deep serenity.

Looking out the window,

a magenta sky melts the darkness.

Ribbons of red, orange and purple

burn into a blazing sun.

It is morning in Greystones.

I miss you,

our time together sustains me,

holding your warmth.

 

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8 thoughts on “Holding your Warmth

  1. Graeymatters and purehaiku, thank you for your kind comments. I too wish I was in the sun at the moment. I hold the memories and the cup of tea and will go to the sun with my husband again this year, we love where I wrote about 🙂 Maire

  2. ummmm…. nice ! Made me long for the sun though, like talk of good food makes us want to eat. I see mention of Greystones at the end. is that Greystones, Co Wicklow? If so, we are compatriots, I grew up there. Either way, lovely poem, full of beautiful sensuous imagery- I could almost feel the warm rocks and smell those wildflowers!

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