London
London
The tour of London begins
In the streets of my mind,
Through past and present
Intrinsically entwined,
Through people and places
It's heart we will find,
Through fellow travellers
And friends left behind.
From West End theatres
To the cafe's and bars,
Round Oxford Circus
On buses and in cars,
Where rich and poor
Peruse bottles and jars
On the old market squares
Beneath the neon stars.
Intricate and beautiful,
Woven in rhyme,
Delicately melodic,
Pure and sublime,
Rhythmically beating
Perfectly in time,
To the bells of bow,
How sweet you chime.
On speakers corner
Free justice calls,
For the suffragettes
Chained to the walls,
Sneers and ignorance
From the Westminster halls
To the whispering gallery
In the dome of Saint Paul's.
Innocent naivety,
Children who stray,
Ragged and forlorn
On cobblestones lay,
Begging for morsels
To survive the day,
In the Eastend arches
Where harmonicas play.
Dirty old Thames
Lapping the rocks,
Where painted harlots
Swish their locks,
Coax the sailors
With perfumed frocks,
For half a crown
On the London docks.
The Mayfair Gentry
Their carriages refined,
Regalia and etiquette,
To snobbery resigned,
Ridiculously wealthy
Yet socially blind,
The waifs and beggars
Out of sight and mind.
Trade and commerse,
To the city, its life,
The hustle and bustle
In the ale houses rife,
Westminster or Stepney
Husband or wife,
Make bread and honey
For the trouble and strife.
Parades at the palace
Where the Queen sips tea,
Changing of the guard
Tourists duty to see,
Trooping of the colour
With all its pageantry,
Pomp and circumstance
Steeped in history.
To the bloody tower
Where the ravens fly,
Where heretics confessed
And traitors died,
The Beefeaters guard
The secrets denied
In the gallow's tale
Of London's pride.
Piccadilly to Trafalgar
The omnibus mayor,
Over Westminster bridge
To parliament square,
Where commoners and lords
Will debate his fare,
While the underground
Buskers sing for spare.
This is my ode to London,
My poem, now penned,
Celebrates the diversities
On which these words depend;
"A song for all seasons
To your ears I'll lend,
And my heart I bequeath
To London, my friend."
Copyright © Robert Horton | Year Posted 2015
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