On A Holiday

I felt woolen threads of afghan carpet tickling me,
a saga of emotions draining golden reserves of energy.
i saw cherry red apples dangling from leafy tree twigs,
swam rapidly across chilly currents of deep water.
i kicked loose chunks of dirt with my spiked shoe,
rode on bare horseback through soggy fields of unripened paddy.
i drenched myself with saliva dribbling from my mouth,
fed the cows with lush green bundles of country grass.
i devoured greedily, roasted slices of barbecued goat,
paced vigorously through sea sand hosting an army of venomous crab.
i drove my slender nosed sedan at breakneck speeds,
whistled at the top of my lungs piercing placid carpets of air.
i swayed rhythmically to infectious tunes of music,
sipped chocolate rum from large beer mugs of bone china.
i stared at my reflection in sparkling mountain water,
draped myself in expensive linen suit with tinges of gold.
i dug tunnels in mud with crowbars of metal,
fondled long silky ears of my pet Alsatian.
i painted the courtyard walls with hasty strokes of king sized brush,
snored like a demon through humid passing hours of the summer night.

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