Poem: Mapping the past

Manderley Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley.  No, not really: not Manderley.  Pemberley perhaps?  No, these big stately looking houses, imagined and real are open to the public.  The house I went to isn’t open to everyone.  I actually went to my Nanna’s old house in Liverpool.  I didn’t even have to leave