To the peninsula my friends

To the Peninsula my friends*


To the Peninsula my friends,
the old one goes to ground
A whole new swathe of London
standing on the stirring ice
Scuffed knees and drowsy bees
in those stark and sullen solitudes

A cascade of irises,
The roar of heavy, distant surf
Towers cut like prisms
safe return doubtful
The naked soul of man
wrapped by the river Thames

Big, eclectic and original
The end of the axis
By endurance we conquer
vistas that never tire
Months of continuous darkness
15,000 new homes



* Inspired by the "Ernest Shackleton Lodge" ( pictured above) that I saw on my walk along the rapidly developing Greenwich Peninsula, I decided to combine quotes by the polar explorer, Ernest Shackleton, with the language of property development brochures to make a poem.