All photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
All photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
Weekend break from the Parisian heat in Bretagne, France…
By the Breakers at Saint Malo
Patterns on la plage (the beach)
Sunset over the former pirate seas of Saint Malo
Big Bear at Le Grand Hotel des Thermes, Saint Malo
The Seagull sweep
Striking a pose
Le Mont Saint Michel
Tide’s out
Sunset beneath Le Mont Saint Michel
Within the Abbey at Le Mont Saint Michel
All photography by Damien B. Donnelly
Day 7 of Jane Dougherty’s A Month with Yeats poetry challenge and today’s inspirational quote from WB is: ‘…stars, grown old in dancing silver-sandalled on the sea, sing in their high and lonely melody…’
To join in the creativity or just to discover Jane’s gentle genius, her blog link is: https://janedougherty.wordpress.com/category/poetry-2/
My poem today is called THROUGH THE SANDS
And when they danced
she would hold him, her
perfume by his face, his
hands as her strength
as they waltzed through
their current as the tides
swept the shore, through
love and labor, to the first born,
still born, through the twins
who stopped the tears
and the girls who tied
the bows as the sands slipped
through time and the pace
became a quick step, through
the hands that held and those
hips that swayed through
the melody they were making
as they danced through
waves of washing houses
into homes, children into
strangers; rarely calling
and barely remembering
but on they danced as red
locks swept into silver strands,
as full head turned to bald head
on an older head as they turned
to the music now made
in the memory, till she left him,
finally, one morning in may,
as he rose to the sunlight but
she had lost to the moonlight
and so he built her an alter
of sea shells and sentiments
and now he turns, alone, across
the sands still slipping,
as the stars plot a path for him
to reach her in eternity.
All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
Catch cotton kisses
blowing briefly over bodies
on beds, on beaches
basking, baking.
Catch kisses
cuddled in cotton sheets
freshly laid kisses
caressing carefully closed curtains.
Kisses cuddled
on sandy beaches as tides tick through time,
tickling time
with waves washing over us.
Clean, crisp
cotton kisses, candy kisses,
too delicious to last too long,
long kisses
on cotton sheets, worn with laughter,
folds of light laughter,
making movements of moments,
moving moments,
catch the moments
of bodies on beds, on beaches
where tides kiss toes,tickle toes,
wash away woes.
Summer kisses,
cotton candy kisses
on soft sheets of surrender,
like the sand surrenders to the shore,
like the sea caresses the sand,
kisses
in waves never lasting
though sinking so deep
below the surface.
All words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
Audio version available on Soundcloud:
I’m chasing
beaches broken
slipping in between sands sinking
feet in search of footing firm
contemplating connections
between the sand and sea
as if to find reflections
between the land and me.
I’m chasing
beaches broken
slipping in between sands sinking
watching tides through time trickle
dividing and subtracting
what’s lost and left to see
as if they’re reenacting
what the years made of me.
I’m chasing
beaches broken
slipping in between sands sinking
currents coming to covet
corrections and corrosions
that trickle out to sea
along with the illusions
of who I thought I’d be.
I’m chasing
beaches broken
slipping in between sands
sinking
skipping over shallow streams
dissolving
while holding on to hope.
All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
Audio version available on Soundcloud:
We walk on soothing sands
in far flung foreign lands
that sweep seductions
over sky and sea, we see,
in loving hands, golden wedding
bands, no tighter knot any sailor
ever made, we walk on beaches
of borders blue, better blues
than any blue has ever been, a better bond
than any eyes have ever seen, eyes
that tickle with tears, eyes that see
a future beyond the years, we twist
and turn to songs serenading the sunset,
a sway of celebration, a joyous jubilation
to court the continuous currents
of the fortunate fate that found you,
a dutch delight and a perfect Per,
here and happy folding hands
around hearts while a certitude
sweeps the shore, connections created
in this paradise where gods have given glory,
where the universe maps out for you
a story, and when the sun sets your foot prints
will settle upon the sand where you once stood,
impressions tied by tides like the rings now worn;
bands to bind the bearers, you are now
like the sea and the shore;
bound to each other, always and forever more…
All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
Shandy shades of dust speckle the ground
And gallant tones of green
Dot the landscape
From which the scent of olives ooze,
Before mixing with the aromas of musk,
Distant Morocco
And the comical smell of buring tires.
At dusk,
I am driven by a blind taxi driver-
Judging by his driving-
Along a road
Which seemingly stretches through the sea
Whilst seagulls dive for food
Before the final setting of the sun.
That morning,
I had strolled along golden sands
And watched tides sweep over my feet,
I saw white robbed men
Close their eyes
And wrap themselves
In prayer and peace.
I saw the sun rise
And pour its rays
Over the tombs of those
Who had long since gained
Eternal rest.
A simple life witnessed,
With riches extending far beyond
The grasp of materialism…
I see you
Sweep across my feet
As I sink between
The sand and the shore,
I see you
Seep neath my skin
In a sensation so
Soothing and seductive,
I feel your
Currents caress me
Drawing me into depths
A darkness devoid of fear,
I feel your
Fluid fill my lungs
Flowing with the force
Of being found and being free,
I see you
Rise within me
Until I see myself
No longer, no more,
I see you
Until I open my eyes
And the dream is gone,
But what remains?
All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
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