FROM GUY'S TOWER

Thirty floors above the ground I stand,

So high!

Look down through mists swirling around; 

Soft grey, pink and white clouds drifting by

Hinting at the secret treasures of
London’s river, hidden far below

Just waiting to be found.

Sunlight flashes from the Shard

Pointing to a sky-blue canopy;

Slowly revealing

Diamond-sparkling water - and

The Tower moat where once had been

A sward of perfect porcelain poppies,

Each scarlet flower

Now gone to pay for healing

And care for those who shed their blood

To protect the freedom of this land.

Healing is costly, and recovery hard.

Then briskly as once she cut through the heaving sea

The Queen’s loyal warship thrusts her prow at last

Through the misty shroud

As tall cranes nod in steely salute.

And this London girl is proud

Looking down upon the resting place
Of HMS Belfast.