Saturday Afternoon
I am happy
Frangipani tree is still blooming
I pick a sprig to put in my hat
First swim for weeks
Beautiful weather
I breast stroke past the rocks and
think of Captain Arthur Philip rounding the Bay
This Cove is my mother
As a child I did not have to share her
I spent summers like a sea urchin amongst the rocks
collecting shells decorating sandcastles with seaweed
covered in salt and watermelon juice
Gentle exercise only said the Doc
Sadly I must face the reality that
my body can no longer dive from the rocks
or ride the waves
I never thought it would end
Sad when we realise that we can no longer do what we did in our youth.
ReplyDeleteI envy you your swimming hole. Mine was this
ReplyDeletehttp://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/5EZniDerGhQO1_fSaT232g?authkey=Gv1sRgCNSp-4ryuayhxgE&feat=directlink
Gentle exercise would be a step up for me, slug that I am.
Yes it Madame...especially when we enjoyed it so much.Still there are other pleasures now
ReplyDeletelike communicating with peepul servants from the olde Dart :)
Barbra Seville...you know I have terrible trouble with numbers and maths and you send me this to decipher.Grey day today..not going swimming...now if you lived nearby I could come
ReplyDeleteand drag you out kicking and screaming for some
gentle swimming exercise.
I was submerged in this poem, in the swimming hole..
ReplyDeleteI too am sorry for what's ended, nothing like youth, nothing...
Good to see you popping up for some air Lyn.
ReplyDeleteThey say there are compensations for the loss of youth.When you find out please let me know!