By Maya Green
The Thames flows deep with a silvered pride,
As morning swells on the rising tide.
I stand where the stone meets the river’s hem,
In the waking heart of a liquid gem.
The skyline wears a crown of light,
Turning steel to gold and glass to fire.
The Shard ascends in a gilded flight,
A crystal spark on a celestial wire.
St. Paul’s sits soft in a buttery glow,
Like a fable carved from ancient bone.
The city shimmers in the ebb and flow,
A fairytale kingdom on a bed of stone.
The air is sharp with a restless grace,
A thousand dreams in a frantic chase.
With gusto and hope the streets begin,
To let the hum of the morning in.
For though the stars may briefly set,
The pulse of the streets hasn’t finished yet;
A city that breathes with a rhythmic sweep,
And finds no time for a heavy sleep.
Dateline:
2.14 PM
February 8, 2026
Reflection of City of London
