Cross the county line, a road and high wall.
Here and there parts of the wall
have fallen, tantalising glimpses
as to what lies on the other side.
But travelling at sixty and looking
out the passenger's side window
on a road that curves like a racetrack
is a hazardous occupation.
Doesn't stop me from trying, though.
The wall, and what might be on the other side,
a fascinating proposition.
What adds to the appeal are the stone arches.
Three of them, all different. The first arch
plays host to a muscular
The second arch supports
a proud white stag.
Then there's the third arch,
nothing on its plinth.
Something tells me
that if you try going
you'll end up dangling
from a rope.