Poem: There is a Park I Frequent Oft

There is a Park I Frequent Oft
By: Abbey Rutter

There is a park I frequent oft,
Where quiet solace find.
I wander through its grand expanse
Pursuing peace of mind.

Sometimes I sit and people-watch
To help the time pass by.
A story for each stranger here
Where the ignorant are mine.

Each day I go there to the park,
I seek the lonely man,
Who sits upon my bench sometimes
A buried face in callused hands.

I trust the long green grass unkempt,
With must, the oaks and pines I keep
Long hear I tales of this wood
This park sells secrets as it speaks.

Have you a place to whom you go,
When at loss, by sorrowed soul?
Do you frequent oft as I?
Or do you trust your roads of old.