It's a satisfying feeling. Waking up to warmth, sunshine,
and the peculiar aroma of the ocean's marsh. It's December,
but there are sandpipers chirping, and the sun doesn't hesitate to nurture
newborn grasses.

The breeze sweeps across channels, as waves roll gracefully
onto the banks. A full day's work flashes by with smiles and laughter.
The setting sun disappears in a fiery blaze
of pink and orange as the bagpipes play,
and the visitors enjoy. No surprises. Just perfection.

Leaving this heaven on earth would be betrayal,
but it's inevitable. You're mesmerized, but at the same time,
unconsciously uncomfortable. Out of place. Out of touch.

Your thinned wallet bites,
and the dreadful white ticket glares.
banishing you as the grieving process begins.

Meandering down the driveway brings on relief,
Forcing you to forget the burdens of disappointment.
Your head hits the pillow of solace, as you arrive in the real world.
Much to your dismay, deep inside you know, there's
nothing quite like home.