We talked about Jamaica

Sunset on Negril Beach, Jamaica

The Poetry Thursday prompt is "who's talking," suggesting we write a poem using dialogue. While my poem doesn't contain actual dialogue, it relates real conversations about a longed-for adventure, deterred by a hurricane.

When I first read the prompt, I had no inspiration and wasn't sure I'd write anything. But last night the phrase "we talked about Jamaica" flew into my head, releasing a flood of memories and inspiring this poem:

For A

We talked about Jamaica:
two weeks of sun and sky,
a balcony in moonlight,
trading truth against a lie.

Probing kisses to quench our thirst
unsatisfied back there,
where others tried to part us
alone at last, so rare.

A walk along the coastline,
the chance to hold my hand;
the joy they wouldn't let us live
in a desert kingdom's land.

No hope for any future
while protocol held sway,
but longed-for precious moments
when we could get away.

A fantasy it was, too;
we knew that all along,
yet tried so hard to make it real
'til winds became too strong.

Our dreams swept up in palm trees
buried deep in island sands;
hidden treasure undiscovered,
fate had dealt its hand.

Warm evenings in the moon's glow
our dreams seemed oh so close
swept away by a hurricane's fury:
lost magic stings the most.