A Treasure Map.
In my workaday pockets, brushed by inky, clammy fingertips.
Once pristine, lacking any wrinkles. A land to discover.
Now dog-eared, yes, but also gilded with love.
My memories, awoken by this talisman?
Emerald roads, scarlet paths, like veins-
All leading to wide- sweeping beaches.
Undulating hills with cloud-shadowed flanks,
now just sleepy shapes in my memory.
Yet not all sleepy. The gentle tang of turf fires still runs strong.
Red and white cottages, stark and strongly built.
The bluegreen ocean. Always the ocean.
Copyright Tom Tide 2017