There's A Poem In This Place Poem by Philip Whan

There's a poem in this place-
Within the calls, throughout the halls,
With the ring of the quiet king,
The palace writes a lyric
With chorus and purpose.
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There's a poem in this place-
In the vast kitchens,
The silent chaos of the cooks,
The versatile speed of the army of valets,
All rushing about in service to king and country.
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There's a poem in this place-
In the tranquil gardens,
The beautiful birds serenade their silent songs,
The cheerful children dash and play,
With Mighty Oaks too inviting not to climb,
With tall forests too terrifying to tame,
The good green gardens greets too few.
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There's a poem in this place-
In the Mysterious Maze,
Deep and dark,
With a treasure in the center,
Of value to many, of value to few,
Where love is found,
Remembered and cherished.
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There's a poem in this place-
In the Great hall,
Tall and mighty,
With cheer and laughter,
With warmth and content,
The terrible bard entertains the new,
And the travelling caravans here always stage a coup.
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There's a poem in this place-
In the church's chapel,
Where the regretful repent soundless wrongs,
And the Respectful repeat endless psalms,
With a clever clergy to let them weep,
With a Court Chaplain worth enough to keep.
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There's a poem in this place-
In the Palace of the King,
Where the fate of the late are honored anew,
Where the enlightened few shine so true,
The people find common ground,
And order is found all around.
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There's a place where this poem dwells-
In the hearts of the great, in the homes of their minds,
Where we are all pushed ever onwards,
To the next world changing finds.