A Portrait Of Victorian London
In gaslit lanes where shadows creep/
cobblestones weep with silver tears/
Shaftesbury Ave where secrets sleep/
cloaked figures vanish/ banishing fears/
top hats and bonnets/ in a hushed tableau/
glide through the haze where gaslight glows/
carriages rumble/ a rhythmic/ fading sway/
In alleyways shadows twist and turn/
poverty's hunger/ gnawing/ hollow ache/
a patchwork woven where souls burn/
Of poets and painters/ for artistry’s sake
consumption’s cough/ in gin-soaked walls/
and showgirls dance/ as darkness falls/
their laughter echoes/ as the curtain calls/
Breathless rain/ staining the night's dark face/
sulphuric smog/ a shroud that starts to bloom/
coughing vendors in a destitute place/
offer their wares/ escaping from the gloom
organ grinders/ a melancholic sound/
chestnuts sizzle, on barren/ frozen ground/
word of cholera all around/
Yet/ mudlarks search/ in the muck of despair/
for treasures lost/ a glimmer of the past/
broom girls sweep/ with silent/ patient care/
eradicating shadows/ made to last/
the voices of the fallen/ in the air/
the dreamers’ hopes/ a golden, shining prayer/
as life’s ambition is left to chance to share/
I had to look up mudlark.
Little Oliver Twist walks the streets of this poem. You took me right to him.
Non-stop to Oliver Twist.
Excellent poem, which plays very well with the narrative and descriptive, almost like a painting, where spaces and characters are represented with a very suggestive language. Best regards, @saltycat.
It's clearly Victorian yet so relatable even in today's society. Showgirls dance while darkness falls, coughing vendors in a destitute place, word of cholera all around. Even though its not cholera now, its covid or bird flu, society hasn't changed much. Same issues of a different name, I wonder how this road would look painted today.