I Was Born

I was born of sand and sea Of ozone so fresh It could be tasted I was born of a mountain A picture postcard backdrop Shadowing a small seaside town It's grassy slopes And sheer rock faces Visible to all I was born of sunshine Long summer days Spent on glorious sandy beaches I was born of seagulls Squawking their plaintive cries Hovering over any left-overs Amassing around the harbour Expectantly awaiting Returning fishing boats I was born of a stilted, wooden cafe Vending ice-cream, tea, scones And buckets and spades I was born of poverty Of making do Of hand-made clothes Made from cast-offs And recycled yarns Our toys passed down Revamped to look new They were new to us I was born of tasty, home-made soups Full of fresh vegetables And cheaper cuts of meat Wholesome and warming I was born of cold winters Coal fires, condensation dripping In icicles down cold, Salt encrusted window panes Of hot water bottles Moved around the bed To warm cold sheets I was born of Vick's vapour rub Of Eucalyptus and Cod liver oils Miracle cures we were told I was born of shyness Of under-achievements Loneliness, and Not meeting expectations of others I was born from dust Fine particles from the environs of space Combined to make atoms and molecules Which make up everything we know I am a miracle I was born Carol Keys. (21.02.13) Inspired by Joseph Buckley, We Are Poets (I Come From)

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