London Waves...

Sat on the Bankside lunchtime, people watching...

The swell of the city on the Bankside

with couples, runners and kids

linking arms in fluorescent jackets

and flipping up plastic lunch-box lids

A personal trainer stretches and pushes his aim

as her muscles burns and flex in the fitness regime

the cold spring air turns the dust in a round and it spins, spreads and falls

the simple stroll, a lunch time bowl, a single blackbird calls

a mass of choice, a scream of the gull, a pack of joggers filter by

this city it sprints and talks

and sings

underneath the ever changing sky

Author's Note

(in progress)

Reviews

[R J Askew]

Great stuff. Know the place well. Ach, the constant movement of life. And the odd poet on patrol, keeping an eye on things! The choice is often too much, but such it life, too much at times, always searching for that new riff. The blackbird seems constant, its song is the same and the ky is the same, every changing. It is great to see places anew through the eyes of others.