Little Places Poem by Paul Reed

Serene is the world in little places
Between the books on dusty shelves,
In quiet nooks where no pulse races
That no-one knows but ourselves;

Sacred is the corner of the garden
Where even the breezes find respite,
Where lungs can be filled, resolve hardened
And all our troubles seem suddenly slight;

Wondrous is the window the rain spatters
While we sit on the cosy inside,
Listening to the thundery skies clatter
As safely with our souls we confide;

Dear to the heart the glowing fireplace
That bitter winds cannot tunnel and groove,
Esteemed the security of the hidden space
That the crowd pass by unmoved;

But of all such precious venues
Retreats when life throws it's cruel dart,
Is the hideaway just for me and you
Where we hold each other in our hearts.