Sing to me, O Muse, and through me tell the story
of the sleeping beast beneath and his lofty tomb.
Tell of the brave who climb his walls
and stare into his eye.
And face the ghosts that haunt this earth,
graves open to the sky.
The bus ride twists and turns
through Vesuvius’ steep sides,
and through it’s windows we did see
and mighty view apprise.
Majestic waves and sleeping mountains,
villas far and wide.
Though man’s creations may be great,
by nature they abide.
Our Heros’ journey begins here,
a quest to triumph gods.
With shining rocks as northern stars
through perils they did plod.
Soon they reached the mountaintop,
a marvel to behold,
a sight so mighty and so pure
it cannot be retold.
An ancient villa upon return
to the ground so sure,
with frescos so magnificent
yet modern life obscures.
Columns, vases, and peacocks
in fourth style abound,
A type of Roman fresco art,
never failing to astound.
Then to Herculaneum
our heros did ascend.
With an interactive museum
to their learning they append.
Modern science never fails
to bring the dead to life,
And when the mountain spoke to us,
it did indeed suffice.
To make history a living thing
truly is a feat.
Yet today did manage
to all expectations beat.
Our mighty heroes all worn out,
back to the hotel they venture.
Tomorrow is another day
with wonderful adventures.
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