Graciosa

Where fishermen once hauled nets
Shared gossip, landed fish
Dug long tunnels in the russet cliffs
To shelter their bright boats
We now stand
Pondering the blue Atlantic rollers
As they part around the sentinel stone in the bay
We delight in the spray
Run laughing from rogue waves
Our pleasure replaces their hard toil

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

 

Day 5 of our virtual Azores Holiday, we are now on Graciosa, a small gentle island.

 We will be there all week — a poem a day to fly you away……

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