The National Trust

Confusing car parks and one way systems, a panic to find your cards.

Check the expiration and the direct debit, enough to pass the boarder guards.

Headteacher helpful, and a knowing glance, before the “have you visited here before?”

An enthusiastic “No!” or a more casual “Several times…", the first interrogation passed.

A reccie on the map - coffee, cake and toilets cross-haired.

But onwards - enthusiastic for the adult culture school.

Paintings, libraries and fancy beds - hiding in the dark, to preserve the dust.

Deliberate pauses, nods and glances, amplify the ignorance.

Ah! Oh no! Paused too long - an expert psammead emerges from the gloom.

Earls, ladies, days and dates - a grand propaganda story.

The slaves, distastes and awkward ivory, skipped over like a muddy puddle.

The depth is shallow - like my interest, but not my knowledge - before an exist to a glorious garden.

Ewe, oak and wild poppy - beautiful and deadly in their own way.

An overpriced ice cream feels well earnt - before complaints about prices in the shop.

A hunt for the car, confusion at the exit.

Sleepiness and silence for the thoughts of a world gone by.