Ensnared . . . she gradually slowed to an oscitant still
Midst the streaming and teeming of crowds that did mill
As stiff sullen shoulders nudged her here then there
Still she did not feel slighted was quite unaware
Of slack lacklustre faces all looming and leering
In clustered society caroming and veering
Like blank bumper cars or automata humanity
Humping through life gripping fast-to-fade sanity
Yet none were perceived by her cool conscious mind
For off it had streamed to a place that just shined
Beyond traffic bleats mute and rough mutterings muffled
By crowds in retreat as oblivious to her they shuffled
Through mean megalopolis canopied with grey
Its ignoble leave drifting gently away
So the stale London air was around her no more
As blinking she stood upon a far distant shore
Where waters shimmered through words and soft phrases
And cherished sands stretched across watermarked pages
Turning laughter imparted in echoes long ago
Into islands of treasure beached as castaway cargo
Feeling warmth undiminished as the fire does still burn
And we all have our beaches perchance to return
As back to the city and onwards she goes
But her heart’s by the waves where the prose . . .
it just glows.