Park by Laura Alexandra Munteanu

They say behind some bush some story creeps,

High in each tree hides, some well crafted verse

Deep in each flow, some small magic sleeps

For our imagination to rehearse.

The winter-time, a stark and naked frame

In the springtime, her gay costume is spread

In summertime she spreads her fingers wide

In autumn she wears yellow, gold and red.

How did this escape the factory’s breath,

The advance of industry’s bold dreaming?

The car-park’s necessity, tar-mac death

Where no birds sing, but wake each day screaming.

The wall that was built, that kept the grass green

Kept safe this space, so that dreamers yet dream.


Nothing stays the same in time’s rich jig

We make both rich gains and count heavy losses,

Be we stalk a fine marshland winter pig

Or we raise carved stone Holy crosses.

Spite the battles fought, the flooded river

The cannon ball scream, the wall that withstood

The martyrs hope the Queen would forgive her

The citizens dead, in a river of blood.

The stories written, the children play here

The ships that sail the broad pond with the ducks

The bowling green’s grass and the rockery’s cheer

The rich-grey mud, whose embrace our feet sucks.

Every moment that ever made this place

Let us learn, how so special is this space.


Who knows then what secrets might yet sleep still

Beneath the green sward , tree, building and road

Beneath these trees, might we find time to kill,

So that a secret truth might yet be told.

Should we be here to hear and capture it

Though the words we cannot their meaning catch

The secret tongue of nature’s savage wit

Whose likeness, we cannot yet truly match.

Change is inevitable, they tell me

But I say all change is what we make it

It could be better for all, green, and free

Or we could forever, for all time break it.


Copyright the author and first published by Friends of Rowntree Park on Nov. 26th, 2013


2 Comments on “Park by Laura Alexandra Munteanu”

  1. Maria Ambani says:


  2. Maria Mirabela Jones says:

    This poem sparks triggers of happy childhood memories, how I held the park so close to my heart. Reading your works brings back the solitude I feel while sitting on the bench, people watching, thinking, looking and admiring. The energy captivated there is something else. I always feel calm, relaxed and collected. Youve captured all the various emotions in one piece. Beautifully done. I like the feminine approach to the seasons, being cold in drawn within during the winter and spreading your wings wide in the spring, the sun glistening across the skin beaming into the 3rd eye. I’m very proud, as usual! You never cease to amaze me with your talent. Te pup…please many more

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