the marina at chelsea harbour

Set back from the River Thames,

Not far from the bustling King’s Road,

There is a tranquil marina,

Nestled within Chelsea Harbour.

It’s like a boating lake for the wealthy,

With luxury yachts and wooden craft,

Reflecting elegantly on rippled water.

It’s peaceful here in late afternoon;

On deck, a man and his Golden Labrador,

Enjoy the last blast of early summer sunshine,

Two girls, sat on a low wooden walkway,

Dangle their bare feet in the shadowy water.

Vessels creek and rattle in the breeze,

While flags flutter gently above ornate lanterns,

Tall chimneys from a derelict warehouse,

Contrast with pristine-white apartment blocks

That boast balcony views and lavish lifestyles.

The 20-or-so storey Belvedere building,

Looms above the lock, and river beyond,

Where the BT Tower and Centre Point,

Stand out on London’s hazy skyline.

And on a bright white bench overlooking the marina,

A discarded paper and empty fag packet,

Are all that tarnish this little piece of paradise.


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