The first long lonely day of idol dalliance, moping draped in gentle gems of elegance.
Sad soulful eyes covered, large and hidden in reflection and grim anticipate
See clearly the sure dejection of the long and lonesome nights apart
and the agonising passing parade of seven slow and sombre days
Her soul sundered by the loss of love and the breaking of her heaving heart,
she lies in sun on silver sand, broken bow to aft and torn apart.
The winds of grief blow no gust or gale of relief nor any aid
and offer her no dark eyed trade in brief exchange
she languishes loudly, abandoned and alone in Tenerife.
This is a description of the woes of a teenage girl on holidays with her parents, torn from the arms of her boyfriend for a whole week. Oh the cruelty of it all
© Dave Kavanagh