There’s a place

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There’s a young oak by the path in the park
And every year it has green leaves
When all the other trees stand bare.

Bela Bartok stood on an island by South Ken tube
In Trilby hat and flowing overcoat
His feet were wreathed in flowers.

There’s a meditation room up steep stone spiral steps
And I have sat an hour or two just breathing quiet
The TICK TOCK of the old clock.

There’s a café in the park where walkers stop to talk
Egg and chips, a cup of tea and watch the world go passing by
The greeting dogs begin to bark

There’s a place in every heart
To take a break, to stand quite still
Sometimes in sunlight and then in dark

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