The water's cold grey and bleak
As it ripples around my purple feet
Barefoot I paddle along marble hill beach
I love to hear the seagulls cry and screech
The cold Atlantic winds chill my face
Now the tide has turned I quicken my pace
For I am alone, just me on this golden strand
Water now almost covering every inch of sand
The foot marks of those who walked here before
Are erased as the sea washes this desolate shore
I feel like a small grain in these long golden sands
Walking on this beautiful Donegal ancient strand
I look across to Downing's on this stormy day
A rainbow appears in the centre of the bay
This place is truly one of natures treasures
A time to reflect on one of life's simple pleasures.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem