Six Hours…Six Days?

 Beneath three palms I lay my weary head.

I slept away the day as its fronds enveloped my spirit,

And the softness of ocean breezes unto my soul fed.

Large billows of cumuli blew lazy across the azure sky

And gangly birds of many feathers chirped merrily nearby.

I slept; I awoke, slept some more and dreamed.

I chased away the pirates and by Francis Marion I schemed.

I awoke and I glanced toward the palms overhead

And I heard the incoming tide by its increasing roar.

Six hours, or six days beneath these fronds I’ve lain?

Ah, but no never mind, for this what vacation was made for.

J. Allen Wilson © Ten 2006