Purple foxgloves line my path
Sway skyward, enticing bees
Wheeling gulls swoop effortlessly
In the salty fresh sea breeze

Surreal in early sunshine
So close, yet out of reach
The tranquil sheltered sands
Of Caldey's deserted beach

A horizon of pastel hotels
Bustling Tenby silenced now
The only sound the crashing waves
On barnacled rocks below

The steep path narrows out to sea
Where the bravest dare to tread
To the furthest sea pink covered cliff
Of the towering Giltar Head.