Now I was hoping that my fictional island hopping tour would meet up with real life at one point.  But, when I went to Tenerife a few weeks ago, I couldn’t find anything set there that I fancied reading.

However, when I got back I found a whole suite of poems by Baby Grace, someone who has obviously holidayed in the same resort as I did:  the champagne breakfast spread, the desperate retreat from sun-bathing boredom that is participation in water aerobics, and the obligatory hike up Mount Teide.  Forgive the pun, but this visit to the highest point in Spain really was the highlight of the trip for me.  So I’m quoting her poem in full together with a picture of me doing my best young lady of Firle impression.

Going up Teide

I have a mountain to climb,
a caldera to traverse:
magma strewn, lava sown.
I wish the Devil would stretch down to hoist me from this scree.

I burn in the light
no grassblade or lichen grows
a dead volcano

The Devil stole the sun,
until the sky god Chaman
heard the beggars’ play
and scattered the ash
on the National Park.


July’s Poetry Event is hosted by Kelly.