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Wishing to Stay

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Passport clutched

Plane in thrust

Wheels touched

Landing

Bags all plucked

Cabs called luck

Grandly standing

A new land I'm handling

With eyes

On the bay

By the mountain

By the way

Of a river fountain

Call it a day

For memory counting

Hit the hay

And wake up for lounging

Wishing to stay.

The End
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Tad_Winslow You're currently reading the poem Wishing to Stay, which was posted on Jul 15, 2009 by Tad_Winslow.

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