Matt Abbott’s Eureka! poem

Climb inside our classroom’s exhibition
of adventures; where senses teach the syllabus, with a thirst
that never quenches. Where, “Do Not Touch!” does not compute,
nor classrooms where you learn on mute… this multi-coloured maze
that masquerades as a museum. Smelling, seeking, singing, speaking: sighs
of satisfaction. Where adults learn as equals: alive with interaction.
Grinning, growing, grasping, gasping, gazing at the stars.
There’s a town hall with a Tardis, and banks and shops and cars.
Climbers, composers, doctors or dentists; scientists or shoppers, mechanics’ apprentice;
this gateway to grown-ups, alive in 3D: providing the tools, for what you want to
be. Where ideas are united; convention left behind:
from toddlers dressed as ladybirds to Archie in the bath.
Eyes wide, excited; flexing muscles in the mind.
On the journey to your future, come and stroll along our path.
Eureka. We’re not like other museums…

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