A sanctuary in the dark, hidden delight,
The treasure of every explorer
Yellow and golden,
Stands proudly against the green
leaves and there erect in the breeze
Before the glorious sunset.
—–
Across the park beyond, lamented rose beds
The beacon of a bygone age
In time a house held together by
Dreams and joyous laughter.
——
A temple of pleasure, intended to
Keep the great excesses of summer
Safe and secure,
Discover the spirit of gracious power
Unhindered by carefree hopes
Forever constrained to forgotten days.
——-
Written for Poetry Jam – Where your’e at
(The Hermitage is a Victorian Summer House in Gildredge Park, Eastbourne. I often visited and played there in my youth with my Grandparents.)
Life From A Park Bench 
I love the wistful and quaint summer house you describe, Alan! I have never felt too hot in Britain so it makes me smile that, at one point, people felt it was necessary to keep the heat out.
Alan, I enjoyed experiencing through your poem one of your favorite childhood places. I like ‘a house held together by dreams and joyous laughter.” Through your poem I am transported once again to childhood, the one perhaps we all remember: the one with ‘carefree hopes’ that as adults we somehow leave behind!
Precious moments of delight beautifully interwoven in the description….
I love the different stages of the hermitage’s “life” you have presented here, Alan.
pretty cool…i wonder at the stories contained within it as well alan…of lives that have passed thru and by it….being held together in all that joy and laughter…smiles.
Sounds like a very nice place to holiday.
Those forgotten days sound like a place worth revisiting!
Love this glimpse into your part of the world. What a great memory for you — with your grandparents. Thanks!!
“the beacon of a bygone age”…..I, too, love places that bring back memories of childhood and my grandparents. A more trusting, innocent time.
Makes me wish I was there.
Love those sanctuaries in the dark!
Oh, this is a magical playhouse … so glad you took us there.
This is a lovely piece – and a reminder to me (a Grandmother to two little boys) that some of our most precious memories of places we have been, are from childhood.
I love this place……… I havent gone out of india (only once to Jakartha) so I love places…. I just loved reading your poem and knowing how small thing make us remember a lot in life
Alan, what a beautiful place–I can well imagine how delightful that was for a small child–magical 🙂
I like the mood of magic and wistful remembrance that you’ve created here. I can only hope that every person has a special place of summertime memories that are this special somewhere in their pasts … this is a beautiful piece.
A very welcome read and respite for us here int eh Southern Hemisphere where we battle with heatwaves. Lovely poem, Alan.