That other paradise

I close my eyes
and am in that other paradise,
of wide plains
where silent windmills tilt
at beige brown mountain
and the brilliance of blue
blinding early morning eyes.

Where sea and sand clash
and cliffs fall to rugged
rocky shores.
Where rock pools warmed
by summer sun are baths
to wash weary travellers.

I see peak on peak,
interlocking spurs carved
from the work of volcanos,
Badlands of emerald green
rock coughed from a scorched

I see the sun sinking
into mercury grey,
dying days merging,
dawn and dusk
in unending cycle.
Me amidst the grandeur
of a land blessed
by the hand of god.

– Dave Kavanagh

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