Holiday Poem by Richard Adams
Holiday
No bags, no passport, no sun, sea or sky,
No swimming at dawn or stars at midnight,
No mountains or valleys, no beach or forest,
No exotic fruits or wood-smoke on the breeze.
But we are on holiday.
Talking, exploring, discovering,
Turning golden in the warmth of our words.
Friday, December 27, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: beach,mountains,swimming
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8/28/2026 2:49:53 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
