Swallows dive and soar above the beach, across the sea, then banking, swoop back to their retreat in a corner of my balcony. From there I gaze down to the palm-fringed bay listening to bells tinkle from the tops of tapering masts. Waves nudge the hulls of yachts then pass to shore. Out in the bay the fishermen cast their nets and pray.
I stroll along the Avenida De Espana basking in September sun, Pausing to admire a delicate jacaranda suspended, swaying in the gardens of the villa Alessandra. At a bar along the beach I see an English paper says that rivers back at home are overflowing. The forecast threatens that it will soon be snowing. Content, I sit in the sun dreaming my way into the coolness of evening.
Posted 29th June 2015 by Steve Hanson on behalf of Fred McIlmoyle. The photograph was supplied by Fred McIlmoyle after the Writing Competition had been judged.
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Benalmadena, Costa del Sol – A Poem
Written by Fred McIlmoyle
(Who has holidayed in Benalmadena for 38 years, so felt it had earned a poem!)
(One of the runner-up entries in the City, Town or Village Writing Competition.)
Swallows dive and soar
above the beach, across the sea,
then banking, swoop back
to their retreat
in a corner of my balcony.
From there I gaze down
to the palm-fringed bay
listening to bells tinkle
from the tops of tapering masts.
Waves nudge the hulls of yachts
then pass to shore.
Out in the bay
the fishermen cast their nets and pray.
I stroll along the Avenida De Espana
basking in September sun,
Pausing to admire a delicate jacaranda
suspended, swaying in the gardens
of the villa Alessandra.
At a bar along the beach I see
an English paper says that
rivers back at home are overflowing.
The forecast threatens
that it will soon be snowing.
Content, I sit in the sun
dreaming my way
into the coolness of evening.
Recommended Accommodation: Hotel La Barracuda
Posted 29th June 2015 by Steve Hanson on behalf of Fred McIlmoyle. The photograph was supplied by Fred McIlmoyle after the Writing Competition had been judged.