Morning In London
Aprils mist…
Easy flowing of mornings gift
Bearing the tidings of baker and fisherman
The phantom fog rolling onward
With melancholy gray tendrils reaching
Into the ancient alleyways of Tower Hamlet
Over the roof of great Westminster Abbey
Seizing the city in its siege of silence
Here I walk…
Enraptured in its placidity
Balancing upon the edges of grief and delight
While Big Ben echoes the hour
And the gulls cry out from Canary Wharf
I walk the streets of my ancestors’ city
Traversing through fog of centuries past
Waiting for its hand to envelop me
For a moment I am home...
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
