Send me impossible blue skies 
over beaches with bright rugs laid out
like the fortune teller’s scattered deck.
Make me laugh at old fashioned  
seaside humour—all bums ‘n’ tits 
and knotted hankies. Or keep it clean:
pristine snow-capped peaks.
Show me the wildlife,
the high life, the low life.
Take your pick from the revolving stand
just as long as you write
Wish you were here