At Westonbirt Arboretum

The “could-be-anywhere-ness”,

Organised chaos, 

The well-maintained mess

Of leaves intertwined with leaves intertwined with leaves.

Civilised picnic, hide and seek,

Superfluous trees;

A hundred different shades of green,

And yellow,

And red. 

Bimbling paths and dappled tracks,

Shadey spots,

Sunny traps. 

Take the footbridge ad-Libitum,

The handsome, timeless arboretum.