The flights are always cheaper in the night

And so when we arrive the hour unsocial

Darkness is the welcome and the cold

So central heating on is number one.

Cases open on the kitchen floor

The dirty washing making several loads

It’s difficult to reach across and get

The kettle for that first real cup of tea

You’ve tasted since that day two weeks ago

When last you both were here looking forward

To the great escape from daily grind to seas

Of blue and wall-to-wall sunshine,

Bad flies and sunburn, yea and gristly meat.

It needs though just one hour in one’s own bed

To cast aside the horrors of the trip

For though it’s often pleasurable abroad

There’s nothing quite like when you come back home.