Turn you round and walk away,

sully not with feet of clay.

All entrance here to you, declined

touch you not, this place is mine!

To take my feet where they would go,

silent walk and pleasures know.

Descent of calm is balm indeed

heart and Soul, and senses feed.

Imbibing here of life's sweet wine,

gently sipped from time's green vine.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

It was a small quiet 'country' park, behind my house, very few people ever used it, I considered it mine. Then they put a wide path in, now it's a cut through for everyone. 

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a.griffiths57's picture



What vines grew in the park behind your house - it sounds as though it made an excellent wine, tea too would be my guess. !? Nice verse/poem good read.




allets's picture

"...sipped from time's green

"...sipped from time's green vine." - nicely penned line. I love a great time image :D