our great city: magnet dusty
microcosm of worlds expansive
cultures meeting, lovers mating
in its hold of nerves ecstatic
tense with all its hopes and hatred
here in London, poets meet
hunters, posters, insight seekers
jokers, hubs and fair spokes-
persons for themselves and for all other
poets scratching for belief
light and blessings! in your smokeless
pubs turned into poetry corners
paths to gather forged and trod
by scriveners who came of old
to town to be immoderate and bold.
I will be there to hear Ez read this one. Seems that you won't be there - sorry to hear that. Love, Fran xx
We'll miss you and Ez will read this! I love the last stanza, especially... t x
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem frank, well done