Homeward travels

Your English soul is starved for sun.
You've summered in the hills of Spain,
and now you'll take all you can get
until you get your fill again. You've
weathered storms upon the sea, poetically
and literally, and now accustomed
to the spray, by waterfalls
you'll stand the day.

As lowering clouds come in
to slake the thirst of over-watered green
for miles around, from where you sit,
you'll wait and watch the windows
running clean.
In time,

the storm will break.
You're well-accustomed to the change.
So different, here. So good to be

around the world
and home again.