Summer holiday poem: a villa on the edge
A villa on the edge
My daughter swimming laps.
I lose count after 200,
she’s not best pleased.
For my penance I take her down the cliff
to the rocky beach.
She snorkels in the pools.
I dread the journey back;
she beats me by a mile.
She watches lizards soaking up the heat.
I shower and almost straightaway
feel dry and hot again.
We drive into the mountains.
It’s cooler here and empty villages,
without a soul in sight.
The border guards ignore us
until we move too close.
Scowls: we back the car away.
Shopping, we wake the elderly couple
sleeping in their bed in the shade beside the shop.
The freezer is full of meat, and blood stained.
We eat delicious hard crusted bread
and set off to find Aphrodite,
then lunch by the sea.
Evening-we park in the town square.
We leave it,
keys in the ignition
in case it needs to be moved.
My daughter orders her favourite;
aubergines courgettes and fried haloumi,
Water melon, and then ice-cream.
In the morning I’m startled by a goat,
his head poked through the bathroom window.
It’s already warm
and daughter’s swimming laps again.