City Of Contrasts Poem by C Richard Miles

Though the trundling of the traffic adds rough rhythms to the city,
There’s an off-beat syncopation in the greenness of the park.
Whilst the clamour of the cattle-like commuter isn’t pretty,
There’s a beauty of the birdsong of the blackbirds after dark.

Though the pestilence persists of plastic, paper and pollution,
There’s an echo of the countryside in fearless, urban fox.
Whilst to overpopulation there seems no complete solution,
There’s a certain charm contained in city’s cheerful, chiming clocks.

Though the Chelsea tractors’ mumble is the music of the suburb,
There’s a clearer call of comfort in fresh flowerbeds that bloom.
Whilst the yelling of spoilt brats can bolster horrors of the hubbub,
There’s a confidential quiet in the graveyard’s gentle gloom.

Though the massing mounds of landfill make a mess with all their litter
There’s a blessing as the buddleias boast butterflies and bees.
Whilst a terrifying tawdriness is glimpsed in nightclub glitter,
There’s a stateliness in avenues adorned with lines of trees.

Though the skyscrapers surround us with their sullen, soaring starkness,
There’s a pride as preying peregrines now perch upon each ledge.
Whilst the leaning lamppost, vandalised, declaims its dismal darkness,
There’s a liberating lightness from the hawthorn-blossomed hedge.

Though the mini-motorbike, unsilenced moans its tuneless anthem,
There’s a reassuring rustling as we traipse through fallen leaves.
Whilst the thoughtless yobs and vandals rip up gardens as we plant them,
There’s a blissful, breathless hush when bats fly flittering from the eaves.

Though the suffocating stenches overwhelm our crumbling sewer,
There’s a rosebush in the roundabout that breathes a fragrant balm.
Whilst the supermarket trolleys in the river make us bluer,
There’s a statue and a monument still showing stoic calm.

Though the inner-city mob augment the mayhem with their mugging,
There’s a soothing splash of colour from the goldfish in the ponds.
Whilst disaffection drives delinquents dabbling with their drugging,
There’s a more enduring easiness in weeping willow’s wands.

Though the shrieking of the siren sings a sad and mournful solo,
There’s a cheerful chorus from small children chuckling on the swings.
Whilst the tags of scrawled graffiti lisp their lyrics, hard to follow,
There’s a welcome whirr when grasshoppers and bees and wasps wave wings.

Though the dazed, dispersing drinkers from the pubs drone crude calypsos,
There’s a lighter note when wind in leaves wails lilting lullabies
Whilst the clattering of cans call out from winos and from dipsos,
There’s a tuneful, tinkling tempo when the fountain’s torrents fly.

Though the modern lifestyle now dictates for work and stress and hurry,
There’s a moment for reflection with a sandwich over lunch.
Whilst the wobbling economy fosters fraught financial worry,
There’s a bravery as buildings statuesque stand strong and staunch.

Though the stultifying sleepers still assemble in the doorways,
There’s a breezy breath of brightness when the kids fly coloured kites.
Whilst our carbon footprints heighten with unneeded shopping forays,
There’s a mild multiplication buying bustling, greener bikes.

Though corrosive class divisions beg to build new Berlin Walls up,
There’s a need for conversation for our city to survive.
Whilst the pessimists can peddle myths to say society’s ballsed-up,
With a new determination, we can strive to make it thrive.