In Holiday Mood

Last Saturday, at the end of my daily dose of Blogwaffling, I wrote out a poem called Night Flight. What I didn't mention, was where the destination of the plane had been, all those years ago when it first saw the light of day. Gibraltar.

I first went there at the tender age of seventeen, to visit my cousin and her family, and that was where I met the man I would eventually marry when I was twenty three. Gibraltar was an intriguing place, managing to be British and Foreign at the same time, and I defy anyone on holiday there in those days not to fall in love with it. What it's like today, of course, I have no idea.

By the time I reached the grand old age of twenty one, cousin and family were back home in England, but future hubby was still out there, and arranged for me to stay with friends of his when I was given a ticket to fly out for another visit as a special birthday gift.

There were still many English families living 'on the Rock', as the phrase went, whom I'd met on my fist visit, and trips across the border into Spain were all part of the fun. One weekend we stayed at a particularly lovely small hotel, built around pretty gardens complete with a swimming pool and today's poem gives you and idea of that sunny holiday.

Spanish Idyll

April, but warmth that belies the name Spring
comes from the sunshine that lights everything.
So the scene of that holiday's magically set
with sights, sounds, sensations
I'll never forget.

A small, shy turtle swims by in the pool,
glad to dive down to the depths
of the cool, green blue waters
and lie there at ease in dappled seclusion
beneath the tall trees.

Straight conifers border the road to the beach,
scenting the noon air. Their great branches reach
towards blue sky and sun, and give shade
to the carpeted, needle-strewn
path they have made.

Emerging stars at the onset of night
set the dark heavens ablaze with their light,
as cicadas and crickets supply
an orchestral backing
to night's lullaby.