I have travelled far,
to the nearest, warmest star,
for a holiday.
The journey was good,
wrapped up in foil and cooked good,
but I didn’t mind.
I met some one there,
they were familiar too,
I can’t place the face.
Water’s cold and wet,
soaking like a cold moist swarm,
that invades my clothes.
Chocolate brownies,
looking good but they tumbled
off the bench and fell.
