London By Night Poem by Angela Wybrow

As we walk along the City’s busy roads,
Ornate buildings, here and there, are a-glow.
They are bathed in a golden or silvery light;
Illuminated against the dark, star-lit night.

Across the Thames, we gaze at the skyline:
There are buildings, old and new; all designs.
Some of the buildings, we see, are really very old;
Nestling with the ‘Gherkin’ tower: new and bold.

Standing proudly, at the very centre of it all,
Is the magnificent dome of good old St Paul’s.
It is a skyline, at which, I always love to peer;
It is constantly changing, each and every year.

Tonight, dozens of dedicated joggers are out in force;
The Thames Embankment, seems the favourite course.
We see a traditional Christmas market and fun fair;
Traders in brightly decorated cabins, sell their wares.

Gifts, being sold, range from traditional to unusual:
All neatly displayed for the eager customer’s perusal.
We see people tucking into chips, and curried bratwurst;
Plus, there’s spiced mulled wine, to quench their thirst.

Fairy lights twinkle away, white and blue,
On the trees, creating such a beautiful view.
As we walk along, I hear the river swirling below;
Lights reflected in the water, make a dazzling show.

At seven o’clock, the bell of Big Ben, loudly tolls.
The air feels decidedly chilly, as the day grows old.
We wander along the river, until it gets quite late,
Then it’s time for us to leave: a time which, I hate.