Return journey blues
Like drones, all descending through dank, cool air.
Simple hours detach a sultry hot breeze.
Stubborn attire leaves sun kissed skin bare
Warm breath leaves in clouds from their clement bodies
Antipodean are hankered and yearned
Past the conveyer of their yesterweek
Dragging the luggage of Landry, spurned
Assembled in haste, no wish to fold neat.
Weighty and weary, surrendered to home
Faces depict Father Time as a cheat
How could the fortnight be over so soon?
Fleetingly wanting time stuck on repeat
Holiday Sun now a near memory
Softening blues with a nice cup of tea.
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