This is London

Tower Bridge


What is London?

Multi-cultural, multi-ethnic, multi-sane.

A city of grafters,

fighting daily, just to get from Alperton to Brixton.

London, where mighty oak leaves stop trains in their tracks,

and imaginary daily rain stops play,

but bombs from wars ago are instantly overcome.

A city of villages and villagers,

of nomads, of dwellers.

High rise flats, and occupants with higher dreams.

Where fisherfolk fish alongside skyscrapers,

and farmers plough fields next to palaces.

Computer techies and hand crafters,

city suits and planning drafters.

Bespoke tailoring in greasy spoons,

eating fish and chips like it’s going out of fashion.

Paddington Bear, Wimbledon Wombles,

Big Ben, Little Venice.

John and Sherlock, Naomi and Mary,

Super heroes, armed with courage, intelligence, grace and magical flying umbrellas.

Of disappearing red phone boxes,

And an omnipresent blue police call box.

Double hearted souls, who run hot and cold,

towards both adventure and danger in equal measure.

The ever expanding city, that never stands still,

living in the the past, present and future.

Taxi drivers who rule the metropolis,

chauffeuring MPs to their duck ponds.

Laptops in coffee shops,

connecting lives to the world outside.

Streets paved not with gold, but from the stolen toil

of kidnapped lions and Kings.

A city of many bridges, with more to come.

People from every country cross

with people from every country,

hoping to reach a destination full of wonder.

A city that trumps hate,

voted for inclusion,

demanded equality,

marched for the planet,

hosted the greatest games.

Of art, and science, and music and

laughter, and tears, and dance, and sound, and

colours, all the colours.

Where everyone is different, which makes us family.

Extraordinary in it’s ordinariness,

perfect in its imperfections,

the world in one city, the city of the world,

and more, so much more.

This is London.

Flowers from Columbia Market,

to celebrate a birthday, a wedding, a birth,

to remember the fallen.

In sympathy with a brew,

for that’s what we do.

This is London.

We make tea.

We carry on.


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