One of my favourite sights in the whole world is the dawning of a new day over Carlingford Lough. Now I may be a slightly biased here, since it was the view from my bedroom window throughout childhood; however, I defy anyone who visits Warrenpoint to say it isn’t one of the most scenic areas they’ve visited. Even on a stormy day, Carlingford Lough possesses a wild beauty.
The dark Mountains of Mourne and mythical Cooley Mountains, eternally trying to touch on the horizon, are in solid contrast with the ethereal beauty of the dawn, with its shades of rose, peach and duck egg blue. Anyway, now I’m getting carried away…
The reason I posted this stunning photograph by Brian McCalmont, creator of the ‘Old Warrenpoint Forum’ (see the ‘Places’ link below), is because it is a wonderfully appropriate image to illustrate my poem, ‘Carlingford Lough’, published on Every Day Poets.
UPDATE: Sadly, Every Day Poets no longer exists, so here is the poem…
This morning, as I walk
along the winter shore,
a weak sun dribbles kisses
onto the tips of newborn waves.
The dullard hulk of a freight carrier
slices the sea, silently,
with unexpected grace.
Its slate reflection sulks past
the stubborn mass of Gannaway Rock,
powers up, heads down the lough,
stretching towards the first blush
and fresh breath of a new horizon.
Pifts of smoke soar to
copy wisps of pearly cloud,
imitations of the mountain outline.
Behind, rose-light tears the sky,
as the sun gathers strength
to warm the growing day.