The Meadow Poem by Stephen Harris

When I was young, I would seek out the green
The bumble bees hum and the babbling stream
Where cowslips and daisies and birdsfoot would grow
And beckon me lie in their sunny meadow

Id always be greeted by choristers then
Who sang the sweet song of the robin and wren
And so the child pilgrim in me did find rest
Within natures nave where the weary are blessed

It seemed to me then as it seems to me now
this heavenly cloister brings healing somehow
So when I feel lonely or lowly I spend
A day in the field with my peaceful old friend