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It may be the weather today, final warming on the skin, family sitting in our garden outside my window. Whatever, it draws me to share this poem that I wrote last year in Winter when reminiscences kept the cold at bay. It also seems to be a time now when I am drawn to the past or simply old age calling me back to younger times as escape. Enjoy.

Remembrance of a Seaside Outing

Nana Dillon thought nothing

of packing a picnic, marshalling

eight grandchildren like a

duck and her ducklings,

trekking us from Crumlin,

on buses and trains, to Blackrock

on a day when the sun shone.

Sand to play on or sea to swim in

but never both. Always

midweek, when travel was easier,

famed outdoor swimming pool

beckoned but never permitted -

it cost threepence

and we would be out of sight.

Seaside was concrete steps,

outdoor stone pool, endless dips,

picnic sandwiches with sand,

orangeade, flasks of tea,

a homemade cake, sunburn,

building castles, burying feet,

sand fights, ducking heads.

Home trek always came too soon.

Tired small bodies dozing

on long seats in old carriages

behind belching steam engine.

Nana ever caring for her keep.

The final crawl from the bus,

dinner, blacked out sleep.


Joanne Powell

15.05.2018 12:45

Love this, Peter. Very evocative. Thanks for sharing.

Leo S

14.05.2018 18:24

Well done, Peter. I love the sandwiches with sand, the sunburn - how it felt like your skin was too tight to fit - belching steam engine, you forgot the smut in your eye that took ages to get out


12.05.2018 21:37

Sounds like a wonderful woman - like so many Nanas!


12.05.2018 19:08

"Sand to play on or sea to swim in but never both." He he he he Love it! So true, sums up a Dublin childhood. You cant have your cake and eat it...without crunch'n sand.

Raymond Cadwell

12.05.2018 17:15

Yes very evocative--it reminds me of trips to Bray with my Mum and we have ice creamand candy floss-all on the train from Clontarf-a wonderful outing--well done Peter


12.05.2018 16:34

Love it. Coincidentally Ive just written a similar one. Rosy


12.05.2018 15:59

That’s a very evocative scene that you have set.


12.05.2018 13:33

That's a lovey evocation of summers in Dublin. For us it was Dollier on the No. 30 bus or our dad's Ford 'Anglia', and then Calamine lotion and tortured nights.


12.05.2018 13:10

That's beautiful Peter. What a lovely memory .Wasn't Nana Dillon marvellous.

Latest comments

25.11 | 22:15

Grief is experience through the mundane. Simple but powerful. The accompanying image really compliments the poem.

07.11 | 11:14

Hi Peter,

A great observation! Social media can be a scary place... I also need to reduce my time there



06.11 | 16:24

A great one, Peter, in the context you describe. I don't read social media myself, I doubt my equilibrium could stand it. 'The balance of his mind disturbed' yes, I think it would be.

06.11 | 15:59

Yes, gossip is a weapon of mass destruction.

In my business as well as personal life I have zero tolerance.

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