Best Vacance Poems

An azure ocean
Displaced by mighty blackness
The horizon dies...

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Precipitation:
Culminates in a washout
Stuffed camels get soaked...

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Water licks your feet
Far cry from the beating sun
Desert sand to sea...

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The English weather:
Rainclouds follow us from home
There is no escape....

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Gathering grey clouds
Whip crack of frothing thunder
Is this Africa?...

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The Med between us
The gusts make me think of you
Storms... it’s just like home....

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What is it to see the soil of home again?
A welcome, snow-struck and a return
To cold; sharp white contrasts sunburn.
We converse in broken tongues to men

We know, hooked on holiday language
Comprised of wandering hand signs.
Collect the car and pay parking fines,
Drive through towns and over...

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Gargling, a gargoyle’s groan gulps
From the bilingual blackness of TV,
A clockwork advertisement pulps
Knowledge into your worn mind free
Of charge. Nothing but gobbledegook
Everywhere, an insistent humming bee
And you just volunteered for the hook.
You can’t understand it, but still can see

That it’s appealing. Someone wants it.
We now...

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Boiling, baking and blazing,
               Other synonyms for heat.
My camel is happily dazing,
	He was not a restful seat.
Poolside I’ll later be lazing,
	Resting my sunburnt feet.
Air conditioning is amazing,
    ...

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Arabic labelling on bottles of water,
Room overlooking bricks and mortar,
Men want tips for being your porter,
Getting to food is a pitiless slaughter.

Piles of olives and eggs sit just right,
In bowls coloured an abyss of white,
Odd cuisine makes a peculiar sight,
This is the date I’ll be...

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Drops of sweat slip from my furrowed brow
Eyes squint, select a number and let fly now

Miss again, a millimetre is a mile once more
Aimed for triple twenty, only got double four

The walk of shame, my oh so familiar friend
Silence broken, on alcohol I forever depend

The...

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Drained to my very heart by our slow-paced arrival, 
          I wander through tasteless decor to the metal arches 
                ...

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Gracious smiles, a waiter waiting.
The service: quite nice actually.
The drinks cool and food sating
My average appetite factually;

Who knew they had coca cola here
In the middle of the desert... odd
Isn’t it? I ordered water and beer
And here arrives our saviour, god

And leader, dressed in a brown
Shirt...

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Shuffling sandstone, infinite shimmering coloured pots,
TV remotes lie in tandem with jeans, shiny toy robots
Act as magnets to the unwary tourist, conspicuous in
Their presence, shorts and cameras, humid hair in knots.

Spices of hues in their hundreds to make you salivate,
Groaning shack tables of suspicious sunglasses...

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Burning, white heat coursing across flesh
		A honky no longer
Leafy flecks marbling skin like wire mesh
		Relax and grow stronger

Silence attacked by Dolly Parton’s CDs
		A boiling furnace
Darts competitions bring you to your knees
		The sun only burns us

The water is contrastingly icicle cool
		At night the sunshine abates
Trapped voluntarily...

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