I sleep less on vacation,
In case I waste them.
Everything in excess.
Even when she reins me in.
I have to make up for,
For every mundane Monday,
I’ve crossed the portals of labour.
Time to look at the world,
Not through a mobile phone.
No point in resting,
Burn as brightly as the sun.
There will be plenty of time to recover,
And stories to tell ....at work.
It is an enigma of life.