The Aegean of Albion

The Aegean of Albion ends its longest day. Islands of hot yellow sands, bright foliage and mountains light grey, all cosetted by the blue sea floating by me above as I swallow the the white wine in tired alacrity at the end of long day of making love, watching the **** of sailing yatchs going by that I could never afford or have the nerves to worry about if I did; tasting the simple fare that makes us southern full not northern bloated, watching the dancing so fierce and so true - ah! we in Europa's northern climes can dream as our fellow the Greeks do of our relative recession compared to their unhappy depression; but we all have to have faith in ourselves, our duty to starve off the false gods of greed and envy.