Old New Town

This city of steady solid columns.

Of cobbles, potholes and greying rains.

Whose wynds take you up, to aspire to better.

And lift you higher only to pull you down again.

Built on solid rock, the colder and the wetter.

Old swamp was drained and cows driven out the gate.

King Arthur broods with craggy chin and saddle hard

And spires and turrets, bridges of kin...

Read and leave comments (1)