October 13, 2015

 

 

I found myself hesitant,

and even a little scared,

entering the hot house from hell,

amongst plants quite absurd,

 

and yet, entrancingly beautiful

in their unique kind of way,

sat warm Trifid’s aplenty.

in a mesmerist array.

 

Then back out into tranquillity,

where a heron, quite still,

was clearly spotted at peace.

Oh such a joy, such a thrill,

 

to walk in the footsteps

of those gone before,

to soak up the ambiance;

please go, I implore.

 

To read of the children,

who played in the grounds.

To horse ride and fish in

idyllic surrounds,

 

and reside in a nursery,

that was hard to leave;

The best childhood possible,

they had, I believe.

 

Winterbourne House,

so superbly maintained,

with past memories intact;

real life in there remained.

 

Thank you dear Rosie,

these lines I impart,

for sharing the gift,

so very close to your heart.

 

This gem near the city,

 a whole world away,

from the hustle and bustle

I shall return to someday.

 

This poem can be read on

blackbury-poems.com

 

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