When wild winds blow across the bay And windows rattle incessantly, When grey clouds obscure the sun by day My mood decreases proportionately, There comes a time to hideaway In a special place, just for me.
My tranquil place between the stairs Is where I sit to read a book And forget all my earthly cares. Relaxing in my little nook I travel to far off places there, In my mind, where e’er I may be ‘took’.
I can meditate sometimes all right And just not think of anything. I can do needlework, or I might Do absolutely zilch, nothing, Lost in time, at peace, pure delight, Relaxed, just enjoying being!
Bill Edmunds 