The sea-fragrant air insinuates itself into your mind,
Wrapping itself around your waking dreams like a warm blanket,
Then gently touches your eyelids, your mouth, your body;
A lover’s caress, to bring you out of sleep.
Outside, foam-flecked waves rear snowy heads
The descend, emptying their essence onto the warm, waiting sand.
Undisturbed by the bustle of wind-blown clouds
The sun begins its daily trek across the sky.
You open sleepy eyes to a vibrant, verdant landscape bathed in beauty:
The chalky crests of nearby hills search out the heavens
While the springy mat of green grape-leaves invites your feet.
A taste of Eden.

English rain
Is not like Caribbean rain
Each pointed drop
Drills through the remnants of the warmth
You wrapped inside you
When you left home.
Just enough for discomfort
But without the honesty
To drench you.
Caribbean rain
Does not pretend
It wets you through and through
Leaving you soaked and annoyed
Yet knowing the sun’s not far behind
While in England
More grey days
With bullet rain
Wait to follow
The one that’s
Pissing down
Pissing about
Pissing you
Off.

(Originally published on RITRO)