Coming back from vacation is often the hardest day to be at work.  Your mind is still thinking about relaxing and how nice that was, and everything just seems a little more demanding than it did before you left.

I return to reality stuck on Island time.

Still thinking of crushed ice with tequila and lime.

My feet in the water along miles of sand.

Wasting my day, just getting tanned.

My head’s on a boat drinking rum punch.

Half cut by noon, having a shore-side lunch.

My eyes are still shaded under my Ray-Bans.

Watching the sights as far as the beach spans.

My hands are still holding ice-cold drinks.

Cold droplets form and over my fingers each slinks.

My body soaks up the rays from the sun.

Passing the time until the day is done.

On Island time, that’s where I’m stuck at.

In a lazy haze, napping under my hat.