Ten Days in Paradise
Vacation home in your dreams?
Perhaps you shun musty smells,
Borrowed beds, icky showers,
Rusty water and the like.
So you float a loan, sign your name,
Promise the kids’ education money
And there you are. Another step up
The ‘ole status ladder. Forgive me
For I hate to disillusion you, crash
Into your parade and rain on your two weeks.
First, the icemaker refuses to deliver,
The smoke-detector bleeps without pause.
The last visitors left dirty rugs, stole
Pillows, ruined towels and linens.
Storm Took the AC and left a 5K bill.
Neighbor broke your knob and door lock.
Ah, but never fear, you’ve arrived in paradise,
Where the paver work keeps you from
Your very expensive parking place, lays
On your tired back the loads of luggage.
The rooms are hot enough to cause heaves,
Plane was late dodging storms and food
Must wait for sunrise. Yet you are here,
Tomorrow must surely bring rewards,
After all you’ve sacrificed to have it so.
The TV is on and the weather for the next
Few days is . . .What? We have to evacuate?
Home, and only one, is where you’d best to be.