The London of my dreams
Peeks out beneath a cloud,
Its structure smug and willful,
Its people strong and proud.
The London of my dreams
Holds sites I've never seen
Towers, castles, bridges,
And all things in between.
The history, the legend,
Poetry soft as silk,
The grace, the pride, the romance,
Are all like mother's milk.
Shakespeare, Chaucer, Byron,
Their voices shout the pain
Of a people's historic struggle
Unwashed yet by the rain.
Wonderful and wistfull
Where Churchhill's thoughts took steam,
All of this and so much more
In the London of my dreams.
A contest entry
- Foreign City by Exit-Stage-Right.
950 points, ended April 5, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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I would adore London, this is such a beautiful write...and a wonderful entry..
Beautiful flow...
Many blessings
Asdzaa~
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Oh Blimey... I was born just outside of London. I want to go there tonight, after reading this, and just roll in it.
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The only bit of England I ever saw was forty-five minutes of Heathrow International for a connecting flight, but this piece urges me to make plans to revisit on better terms!
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Gotta Love This One... partially because we share a similar dream. Ironically, I'm sitting in the living room as the Mrs. is watching the second season DVDs of "The Tudors."
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To feel and see London once more
by day or night or if only in my dreams...mac
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