A low-lying mist creeps across the shore,
Lit by the sun, a gauzy radiant balm.
Gentle clink and creak of boats at anchor –
Rhythmic percussion of a wind that’s calm.
Silver as mercury, the Thames flows fast
On its way to the seam of sea and sky,
Stitched up with silhouettes of sails and masts
And stuffed with the echoes of seagulls’ cries.
Weighed down by purple clouds, the sun sinks low;
Dusk descends upon the darkening stream.
A myriad of lights begin to glow;
A distant beacon casts its warning beam.
Sea waves break on estuary beaches;
London beats at the Thames’ upper reaches.
© Kim M. Russell, 2015
Free image found on http://www.guardian.com
I developed this sonnet to the Thames from a previous poem, Nightfall with Boats, posted on 9th October, using Helena Nelson’s ’32 ways of reviving a rejected poem’.