Vacation Days Poem by king cojo

My mind works overtime
everyday with me,
but you're my vacation
and I'm finally free.

I can fly
in the noon skies
to cloud nine
in your blue eyes.
Head down to your freckles,
each an individual isle
to soak in the sun
that radiates from your smile.
Then I'll take in a deep breath
of the sweet, fresh air.
while I float carelessly
in the waves of your hair.
Close my eyes
with my head free of stress
as the sound of your laugh
allows me to get some rest.

Don't make me go home.