Old Mother Thames

Old Mother Thames

Calor Gas Stoves and chemical toilets – twelve volts buzz……
First light sweet birdsong chimes to morning Sun
The Metropolis waking -
the motorcars engines drones stolen by the supreme sway of the River –
She looms, yet lulls as she swirls on voyage, not lonely, not absent
But she giver of life - herself ALIVE!
Geese in their commune mass to chant the morning hymn,
The Daily Incantation an ode to the water Mother,
Boating on ‘Busker’, the engine hums its own tune
The morning mantra of Old Mother Thames
Willy Mason sings, A Radio just some transitory transistor – we’re on long waves…
A screeching Cox beckons commands,
As rowers - automated push, their limbs like factory pistons, levers to destination
Slinking past - the powerful wash, ever decreasing
To cheat the clocks - but not arrest time.
As Mother Thames – undisturbed, resolute, unyielding, steadfast
The old maid moves on – timeless, yet timed out………….
A journey through the boil and toil, the flotsam and jetsam
The smog & smoke of smug London’s mass,
Swelling, swirling – on perpetual routine
To deep tidal waters and endless dark seas.