Cobbled streets and carriage wheels
Black handsome cabs for hire
Market traders making deals
Beside the watch mans fire
Rats and urchins fight for scraps
Along the cobbles edge
A monkey dancing gets some claps
Whilst eating rotten veg
A beggar sitting in his rags
With crutch and patch on eye
Asks gentle folk who carry bags
For coin as they pass by
Darkness fall’s the gas lamps lit
They cast a subdued glow
The peelers watch with trungeon drawn
For all the thieves they know
If the cobbles tale’s could tell
Of passer’s by who frown
I’m sure we’d have a real account
For our dear old London town
© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
David, great cameo of old London town. Thought this was exceptional.10/10 Ian