Holiday

Say, I could fly
like time on a good day
with no regrets.
Other than a subsequent
ending, obligations on leave
with no worries in sight.
Only dust mites dance on
errant rays of light.
Happening across a thought
I've let wander predisposed
with the blooming of a
rare rose.
Were I able to glide on
the breeze when it blows
I'd worry not on where
it is I would go.