My Favourite Place

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My Favourite Place
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Begun nine hundred years ago By monks of the
Cluniac order,Near the south-east Essex
coast,The Priory of Prittlewell, St Mary.Within
its thirty acre park,Through which the Prittle
flows,Nestles a walled garden, for which,My
fondness doth never vary.
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Just an acre, or maybe less,Formal in shape and
designShady bowers on raised terraces,Full
length of opposite sides.Beds and borders,
fountains and pondEmbrace all colours and
huesBut here not just my senses thrill,A quiet
spirit abides.
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When still young in trousers short,I first
beheld its glory,But though adorned in
springtime splendour,Twas mystery that
impressed my heart.No child could walk its paths
alone,Through barred door I would peer,To sip
the beauty it would pour,And sacred warmth
impart.
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Perhaps nostalgia magnifiesThis place within my
mind,For oft I sat here, in younger
daysEmbarking on adult quests.I also read and
came to know,The one who gave His all,And
since, in recent years renew,My faith on whom
all rests.
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Not always alone have visits been,In winter,
summer or spring,But with those whose love I
sought And hoped for courtship true.Now the
fruits of love have come,And distant my dwelling
lies,To share this treasure with those I love,
alas, Have been occasions too few.
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So to those, who may not know,This haven and
sanctuary,Or have forgotten, what lies
within,These walls and sacred Earth,I invite
you, here to come,And spend a quiet hour,For
this for me, quite simply is,My favourite place
on Earth.