It could easily be
A meditation chair
But today it sits
In a circle of six
At the Wortley Arms
This room, small room
With its old stone walls
And three doorways
Was possibly once
No more than a passage
But nowadays in hospitality
Every square foot counts
Each extra cover
Is another diner
And improvisation is for winners
Outside, in bank holiday sunshine
Families meet up
For some kind of celebration
This place, after all
Is where I spent part of my 21st
