[I wrote this poem in 2019 after a day touring Leeds Castle and Canterbury. It’s VERY loosely modeled on Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales]

A gleaming ship at Dover docked ‘neath cliff

Of white round sev’n o’clock, anon the throng’d

Pilgrims burst forth, with bodies tired and stiff.

–

Amongst them strode an aging gent, with hair

Near grey and shoulders bent by cam’ra bag

With Nikon fill’d who found a steed parked there.

–

He clambered on, commenced to ride and Castle Leeds

he soon espied, a lov’ly manse,

Green grounds and swans but crowds as thick as reeds.

–

Thence on to Canterbury flew, in hope

Of seeing Cathedral true, only to find

Steep entrance fees with which he could not cope.

–

So lunch he sought, a bite to eat, an ale

Perhaps along the street, Five Guys saw he,

McDonalds too, ‘twas truly fast food hell.

–

But lo! a bistro did appear, with food

Of health and cold, cold beer, he ate his fill

and drank the chill, which boosted up his mood.

–

Again he rode along the street, his steed

Alas was not so fleet, for road works far

And wide appeared, begging a daring deed.

–

The driver showed his mettle great, Dover

Beckoned, he’d not be late, and soon o’er lanes

Less traffic-clogged the trip was over.

–

[Photo taken at Leeds Castle, June 2019]