Westminster Bridge

by tfawcus

I fondly recollect a bridge most fair
Where William Wordsworth, with his poet's eye,
Remarked upon an air of majesty.
Now Londoners, in grief, black armbands wear;
Their heads are bowed this day in silence, bare,
To honour innocents who, passing by,
Were callously mown down and left to die.
Once more fanaticism sours the air,
Its jaundiced mists designed to creep
And cause despair. They call it Allah's will,
But it is not. Our gods must surely weep
To see ascribed to them such grievous ill.
Yet Britons will not let this terror steep
Their lives in bile, though mighty hearts lie still.

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Recognized

I see that I have been beaten to the post by Pantygynt, with his fine sonnet on the same theme, following the tragic terrorist attack in London of 22 Mar 17.

This, like Wordsworth's "Lines composed upon Westminster Bridge", is a Petrarchan sonnet. I have used his rhyme scheme (abbaabbacdcd) to echo the structure of his famous poem, written in happier times:

Image by Martin Dunst "Westminster Bridge and Palace of Westminster" reproduced under Creative Commons licence.

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A Petrarchan Sonnet

Westminster Bridge

by tfawcus

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