In verse

I was asked, before I left,
My home and my country,
To sometimes write these daily notes,
In fluent poetry.

And so, as you can clearly read,
I took those words to heart,
This is the first, and not the last,
Of such a rhyming part.

To Battle then, a charming town,
Of Hastings one might say,
Where 'England' changed so drastically,
On just a single day.

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...
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From there to Bodiam we went,
A castle on a lake,
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I sat and watched three children play,
Mock races on the grass,
And thought of us as little kids,
Oh how the time does pass.

But then I realised life is not,
About just sitting there,
My nineteen to their eight and ten,
I clearly didn't care.

We rolled down slopes, crawled backwards up,
Were chickens, sheep, and fleas,
Spun circles then tried hopping straight,
Got grass stains on our knees.

But all too soon time ran its course,
And broke my childish spell.
I dashed off to catch the bus,
A much enlightened Shell.