From Chapel Hill to Staunton we traveled
To watch how plot twists slowly unraveled.
Characters were scheming but phony
In Ben Johnson’s play called Volpone.
Just a short distance to Grand Caverns Park
Did we find cold cavers camped in the dark.
We rose next day to find frost-covered tents,
Clear sign that we lacked any good horse sense.
Next morn past tour groups did we travel
As we hauled our buckets of gravel.
We spread the stones beneath the tourists’ feet
Whilst staying silent to remain discrete.
Free lunch did salve the strain felt in our arms.
Repainting stairs to stop rust’s future harms.
Limestone walls tightly clenched the screws of old
With our vise grips we cried “Out, out damn bolt.”
A sumptuous feast of shrimp and beef burgundy,
An evening tour that lasted near to Sunday.
Some guesses at my age did flatter me,
Enjoyed Easter breakfast at Batterby.
From Grottoes to Staunton did we make way
To relish performance of the Bard’s play.
The ASC matinee was splendid
And so our Shakespeare weekend was ended.
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