When I escape the tomb of my body,
I’ll wander the streets of Savannah,
Fried green tomato friends,
meet with you in our outdoor living room,
breeze speaking for me, a vox humana.
When my soul takes its long vacation,
I’ll serenade the Grand Canalazzo,
a gondolier releasing sighs while
practicing my mind’s permutations,
blowing speckled glass clouds on Morano.
When my spirit makes its final move,
I’ll slip into a coral reef ball gown,
wear lapis lazuli islets as earrings,
promenade between sand fringed motus,
surf Shipstern Bluff just to hear the sound.
When my body gives its pink slip,
I’ll soar the Sacred Valley,
draw infinity signs as Nazca lines,
sculpt rock on a Ballestas Island tip,
glide Belen Floating Market’s watery alleys.
Oh Happy Day!
Heaving off the heaviness,
to bask in love’s genteelness.
when my body gives its pink slip…a lovely line!
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Thank you kindly. I’m glad that line resonated with you. 😊
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You’re welcome! Enjoying your blog!🙂
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I love the imagery of this, the trippy rhymes; is there a name for this type of poem?
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Thanks, John. I’m not sure how to classify this one. I just thought, wow, I’m mentally tired, and since a real vacation isn’t possible, why not a soul vacation. 😊
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it works well 🙂
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Thank you kindly, John. If my body doesn’t see the world, I feel certain my spirit will. 🙂
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I thought of it. Soul packing “list poem.”
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that will do 🙂
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