Over London Bridge...

There are two poems written by Cyril, entitled 'To M. M. (as part of the urge!)'. Below is the first. The second one is dated, and I'll post it tomorrow, 55 years to the day it was written - the first dated poem in the collection. What urge? I'm not entirely sure. The urge to write poetry and share it with selected customers? Anyway, this poem is a reflective look at the journey home of many a London commuter in the 1950s, Cyril himself included it seems.

In my online quest to find a photo of London Bridge to use in this post, I learned that the London Bridge that is there today, is not the one that was there in 1959 when Cyril wrote this poem! I'd heard tale of an American buying the old London Bridge and moving it to the Arizona desert, but not when it had happened. You all knew that, didn't you? <shamefaced>

To M. M.

(as part of the urge!)

Over London Bridge they go

Caught in streams of human woe

Bent on home and television

Five o'clock, and with precision

Leave to catch the 'Purley slow'

Over London Bridge they went

Determined, striding with head bent

Lovely lady's legs denying

Which this morning set them sighing

Only armchairs mean content

Over London Bridge the steam

Filtered to a lovely cream

Cauliflowered from the stack

Build on Bankside's river slack

Where the BullRing's but a dream

Over London Bridge the sun

Smouldered down, the day now done

Crimsoned, merging in the smudge

Draining east to violet sludge

Where green daylight had begun

Over London Bridge I go

Caught and strangled in the flow,

Straining upwards for the light

Thankful for this day's delight - 

Memories' reflected glow