Bad Poetry You probably never want to read

A Great British Holiday

Rolling hills of lush green grass
Over paths trodden a million times
Throughout the years by many a race
From modern ramblers to Saxon folk
As you pass each stone that juts
From broken earth through creeping weeds
What stories these rocks do tell
What monuments there once was built
Through ancient cities and modern builds
To amusements of every kind
Parks full with exhilarating rides
And animals from every corner of the globe
Petting zoos with rabbit, goat and cow
To giraffe, elephant and exotic bird
Museums and art galleries on every corner
Teaching history, science and appreciation
A plethora of worldwide stars
Grace the stage and tread the boards
Music and drama from across the centuries
From The Beatles to Shakespeare
Mozart to Banksy's political statements
Sport runs through the veins of the land
Great spectacles with balls and bats
Even the beaches are world-renowned
Not always golden sand but donkeys
Ice cream, sand castles, fish and chips
If your fancy a quieter life
The land is dotted with many a village
Quaint picture perfect postcards
And all the tea and scones you can manage
With parish churches and great cathedrals
Spires reaching like arms to the sky
Religious artifacts and stained glass depictions
There is something for the historian,
The scientist, the ramble
Something for the thrill seeker,
The child, the art lover
Something for the relaxers
The sporty, the religious
All of this on a small island
Shame it keeps hammering it down