Camden Lock Market Poem by Robert Wylie

Waterside stewpot
Filled brim-full
With tarnished star-spangle,
And honest craft.

Haven of poseur, and tourist,
Week-end freak,
And hungry vendor.

Friend to me
When I feel the need
To sugar-soap
My jaded paintwork.

A place to watch
Water buses
Ply their trade,
Watch the diners
On the restaurant
Float, and eat,
Pick up silver rings,
And influenza among
The crowds,
Munch a macrobiotic snack,
And feel more noble,
Think of one who
Taught me how to fly.