My friend, one hundred years you've stood
With outstretched arms in Ashbury Wood;
Expecting little, giving much,
I wish that man would be as such.
The home of squirrel, insect, bird,
Ever watchful, all things heard,
A sentient being just like me,
(Though many here would not agree) .
Reliable through every season,
You draw me here for many a reason.
You welcome me when I am down
And weary with the weight of town.
Absorbing negativity,
You radiate tranquillity
To those who would accept your boon:
Arrive depressed - leave with a tune.
Like CO2, you take our pain,
Convert it, so we breathe again
With health and happiness to share,
Now full of life and free from care.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delightful poem, very well written and rhymed.