Our Lady of Paris


She has stood the test of time,
A sight for all who visit.
A mainstay of masonry,
A standing of french missionary,
Now she crumbles to the ground.
Reclaimed by time and land,
Today we stand with the French,
Hurting all as one.
She flickers in the red and amber,
lighting up the skyline,
Where she once stood prominent.

London From Above


From above the london lights,
Shine orange, yellow and white.
The trains like worms,
Go underground,
Only to come up,
On the other side of town. 
Everyone is busy,
In their own little world.
No-one says hi,
Or whispers a word.
And I judge them here,
From my ivory tower.
Up high in the clouds,
Above the towers.
They don’t know I’m here,
Looking down on them.
As I climb higher,
In my roll of tin.
London is a blur,
Of lights on the ground.
Goodbye London,
And your mystical underground.