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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



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