I think every Dubliner has been to Dollymount beach at least once in their lives. Mam would pile us all in to her little mini and off we’d head to’ Dollier’ of a summers day. Through the city centre, down the quays and out past Fairview. Along the coast road we’d chug, excited at the sight of Poolbeg lighthouse  and the smell of the sea. We’d squeal in excited terror as we trundled across the wooden bridge, always fearful that we wouldn’t make it, afraid to look out until we got to the other side and on to the sand.


Dollymount bridge

The picnic

Sitting on dollymount Strand

Soggy tomato sandwich in hand.

Looking at the other kids with their paninis

and salad in a tupperware dish

Looking on I could only wish

For a slice of ham or roasted chicken

Not soggy bread that would only sicken

I bite into the sog and grit

Try to smile, try not to spit

I wash it down, not with ballygowan

But water from the tap at home.






About trishnugentwriter

A wife and mother of four who writes and acts as much as she can in between the housework and shopping. I have been published in 'Irelands Own' 'Intallaght' and 'Tallaght Echo'. I have won prizes for poetry including 1st place in The Bealtaine Writing comp in 2012.I'm a member of drama group in 'An Cosan' in Tallaght and also 'Platform One' Writers group in Rua Red.
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