Dear LPG, 

As the London tourist season beckons again, I think that if you live in this capital city of ours, even if you live on the outskirts, before reading the poem I offer today, you will be thinking of all the things that make London a place that people want to visit.  But, to us Londoners, it often represents the place we live and work in more readily than the celebrated city its visitors and tourists see.  

There is no doubt that we each have our own view of the city that we live in.   I wonder if, or how closely you can identify with this one… 

Hurray For London

The city of London is extremely busy.
Whenever I go shopping I get awfully dizzy.
If I stand in a queue my place gets taken,
I’ve often felt downtrodden, abused and shaken.
If I speak out someone may grumble of course,
And ignore my plight and begin to curse.
With family and friends, I have lots of fun.
But when they’re all gone I’m… on…my… own…

If I visit the doctors to ease my pain,
The depth of confusion is so hard to explain,
So, I whisper a prayer as I sit with the throng.
Hoping that nothing is seriously wrong.
The house I live in is over sixty years old.
To be quite honest it is dreary and cold.
I have a huge garden, a dog and a cat.
I carefully feed them, so they’ll never get fat.

With my TV, radio, laptop and mobile
I can close my front door and relax for a while.
No threat from my neighbours, no fuss and no fights,
Though things could get out of hand throughout the night.
There is public transport through night.
Never mind the shoving and occasional fights.
The city is buzzing; I’m in a good mood,
I’ll go home; feed my pets and enjoy my junk food.

I’m excited about living here in this town,
In spite of the rush hour things do settle down.
Some may be on the go twenty-four seven.
While others think that they’re already in heaven.
Welcome to London this is where I live,
It’s hectic, cosmopolitan and rather expensive,
Just look around you, listen to the sounds,
There is something for everyone, there is music all around.

Hurray for London is all I can say.
Now I must leave you and be on my way.
I don’t know about you; I don’t know your mind,
But if you live in London then we’re two of a kind.

©2016 by Beverly Gooden Wilson