Early morning, Ger and the gang
Gone to swim the Pollock Holes,
Bracing salt water preferred over coffee.
Hardy folk, our Irish in-laws.
We two, less intrepid
Guests from “across the pond”
Choose the hike instead.
Upward bound, hand in hand.
As the sea crashes and foams below,
And the wind blows wild through our hair,
We steal kisses on the cliffs.