An Art Steel Poem by Sally A Mortemore

Steel pillars plunge unwavering
despite the trains rumbling their rail tracks -
the constant daily progression -
as Westminster peers
between white struts and straddling girders,
the great eye turning with the tide,
and Big Ben's hourly chanting tells commuters
to carry on scurry on by.
There is a beauty in these great legs
their rust peeling in patterns,
like coast lined maps of undiscovered countries,
each rust-stroke tinted in water-colour.
But these accidental galleries go unnoticed
as people hurry the footbridge
their eyes sightless.
None stop
none acknowledge these unobserved glories
their preference for accepted art.
Yet once these canvases are drowned
beneath high tide's reclamation
their secret sinks within their artist's heart -
but all will rise triumphant
next time the tide goes out.

Sally A Mortemore 2013