Artwork from Google

wanderlust …

the exquisite joys of being awestruck by this sublime, ever so diverse world of ours,

daydreaming of  adventures yet to be savoured, in the wee hours,

thoughts of two friends casting of all suburban shackles that so tightly bind,

on the open road ahead, intoxicated by the thoughts of glorious surprises this world may offer us, knowing that there shall be so many yet to find.

dreams of lush rainforests, deep and dense,

infusing the being in every sense,

dreams of cultures obscure yet to be fully diluted by so many a camera lens,

dreams of seeking out those wonders, and so many more, the path ahead seemingly strewn with adventurous presents galore.

two friends on a dreamy journey to soak in the sun on beaches so pure,

where coconuts dangle from palm trees, tangoing to the lilting music of waves lapping against the sea shore,

where all of our life’s travails may be sealed away for some time, all troubles to be banished behind a locked door,

as we swim the pristine seas, dazzled by sublime coral and fish weaving magic spells on the shallow sea floor.

lavish dreams of basking in the varied cultures that mingle together in our vast world,

where colours of life are painted on the canvas of voyages, the hues of soft pastel, sketched and with joy’s paintbrush swirled,

to be entranced by the marvellous cuisine that wherever we go is gloriously unfurled,

to flit in and out of gentle slumber, to the soft creaking of the hammock in which you lie peacefully curled.

these priceless treats await us just a ticket-to-go away,

if we could only put the daily grind that is our life on hold, while seeking respite, on the many paths that light the way,

if we could only untangle ourselves for a short while, from all of life that forces us to stay,

so that we may continue our dreamy quests, no longer mere serene dreams, but the start of adventures,

not in some vague tomorrow, hoping that life may give us some free time to borrow,

but just around the corner, let us leave later today,

if still only in dreams, of those waiting beaches, and of those palms that in the soft morning breeze do placidly sway … …