I was in my own little world on the tube yesterday, listening to Fleetwood Mac on my headphones.. when I saw this poem opposite me.
I loved it. So, I wanted to share it with you. Just take a moment to read and enjoy…
Poems on the Underground: Buses in the Strand
The Strand is beautiful with buses,
Fat and majestical in form,
Red like tomatoes in their trusses
In August, when the sun is warm.
They cluster in the builded chasm,
Corpulent fruit, a hundred strong,
And now and then a secret spasm
Spurs them a yard or two along.
Scarlet and portly and seraphic,
Contented in the summer’s prime,
They beam among the jumbled traffic,
Patiently ripening with time,
Till, with a final jerk and rumble,
The Strand tomatoes, fat and fair,
Roll past the traffic lights and tumble
Gleefully down Trafalgar Square.
R P Lister
Reprinted by permission of The New Yorker Magazine