In a bitter late winter’s light

On a smoggy backdrop of the sun’s goodnight

 

Score of arcade pop and sirens sound

Cameras clicking and public astound

 

Consume the scene, they flock, they swarm

The show is now and now they perform

 

Like cooling tea in morning sun

They stroke the surface then swirl up as one

 

Tiny fibres, they vibrate the same

The silent murmurs that gave them their name

 

Blue, still promenade border

Leaves a stretch with a little more natural order

 

Jutting out a small way from land

And with that, away from the chaos in hand

 

While some elate, others look away

No time for a natural wonder today!

 

Yet only a few who you wish would just care more

For the dreamy delight you’re so glad you were there for