After an easy journey
with few customs formalities
I would arrive calm and energised
for my two week holiday.
On amber island there would be
a beach bar run by a wise old fisherman
as gnarled as Poseidon
where the cocktails are almost free.
There would be no need to worry
about money or time.
Here, I would be like King Midas –
rich in the local currency.
Perhaps a small boat would take me
languidly, around the island
to a crescent of black sand
and a cave known to mythology.
The walled medieval city
would wrap me in its history
where a lifetime could pass by
in contemplation and poetry.
The sun would reliably
blaze and dip in a riot of saffron
and crimson into the wine dark sea.
Return to the UK? Why the xxxx would I?
