Dover, Leeds Castle, Canterbury: June 21 – The Bus Rider’s Tale
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 again 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.
- With sincere apologies to Mr. Chaucer
PuffinlessTravel 