Soho Square Poet

The grey has retreated, the shadows have run, Omg it’s finally sunny, spring, there’s colour and sun. Daffodils in vibrant displays, Soak up the gold of these long-awaited days. A floral breeze clears the winter’s last chill, As the world finds its pulse and the city stands still

The Tempest of the Mind My mind is as a raging torrent grown, Wherein the silver rills of thought do course, And headlong fall, in cataracts unknown, With all the fury of a river's force. From out this spray a thousand shapes arise, To paint new worlds before my wondering eyes.

@ExWHUEmployee @PaulDonovan_MFC 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻⚒️👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

@PaulDonovan_MFC Whilst we were obviously voting for different children I do want to wish Maisie all the best. Her goal was superb and I’m sure she has many more accolades to come her way with her football.

To my beautiful #Millwall family thank you so much. We tried but we lost. Turns out Ray Winston shared it and then Declan Rice got involved and there was nothing my Maisie could do. BUT talk about feeling the love and support you all made a little 10 year old girl believe 💙 🦁

I’ve got sunshine in my back pocket, Golden light tucked away for a rainy day. Nothing’s getting me down, not even the shadows, As the rhythm sweeps the heavy clouds away. I can’t stop the feeling, this electric spark, Dancing like a firefly against the dark.

I write when thoughts can no longer be contained, When vivid dreams set every nerve afire, The mind behind my eyes: a blazing flame, That fuels the furnace of a deep desire. Though life may ache, a scent revives the soul, Turning the spark into a wild, burning whole.

The whisper of smoke, the shadow of death, the memory of life, the haunting is all, family trees stunted charred, psychopathic persecution, the train tracks, the pyjamas, the mountains of teeth and spectacles, a life’s luggage forever lying shut, the horror, #HolocaustMemorialDay

Time to wake up. #usa #freedom #PeaceAndLove #democracy

Time to wake up, to wake up to tyranny, to take back the power of democracy, wake up and experience togetherness, wake up and banish the bad, the thuggery, the evil within, it’s time to wake up, stop this now. Peace and Love over the gun and power. Wake up America! Wake up World!

The golden light has faded from the stone, On paths where once I never walked alone. The echoes of my footsteps sound so strange, In every brick and turn, I feel the change. The faces pass like ghosts of what was known, Along these quiet streets I used to roam.

From the red silk of Rome to the world’s grandest stage, He draped every icon through a glamorous age. With a "V" as his emblem and "Valentino Red", He mastered the seams where pure elegance led. A lifetime of beauty, high couture, and grace, Leaving a legacy time cannot erase.

The January frost begins to bite, As holiday glow fades out of sight. The bills arrive and the skies turn grey, On Blue Monday, the year's most heavy day. But it’s time for us to listen to New Order and play, As we dance our way to work and chase the gloom away. #BlueMonday

Beneath the neon, Soho’s oldest door, Since eighteen-eighty-seven, beans on floor. Old Mr. Hassan Siari’s legacy remains, In wooden shelves and burlap sack-filled lanes. From every corner of the earth, they blend, A century’s roast that time can never bend. #coffee #soho #london

Discard a voyeur’s gaze; seek an elemental drown, Where unbreathed air settles like a ghost-white crown. Stand on shards of an elder world’s design, Where spectral blues bleed past visible line. No suite greys out this brutalist, cold grace, The total absence of a familiar face.

Beneath the streets in eighteen sixty-three, A subterranean world began to be. From Paddington the iron path was laid, Through London’s clay, a marvel was displayed. To Farringdon the first brave coaches flew, And shaped the city that the world now knew. #londonunderground #TUBE

The beaches to Bayeux the steel met the sand, #TheGreatEscaper returns to ghosts of the land. Through the passage of time the weight of the loss, 5000 shirts mark the ultimate cost. With Micklewhite’s honour, hope in our breath, We share in the memories that conquered even death.

instagram.com/stories/sohosq… Sometimes sharing changes the world (hopefully) . #trump

Layers upon layers to keep out the icy chill, Woolen scarves and gloves against the air. The first day back to work after the Christmas break, Finding a rhythm in the city’s familiar glare. London shines bright in the low winter sun, The golden light signals the morning has begun

The clock strikes deep, the weary year is flown, And dawn will break cold upon the silvered height; A world reborn, to destiny unknown, Emerges from the shadows of the night. May love and every heart find strength in health and grace, As shining goals the coming days embrace.

On December end, the twenty-ninth day, The sky turned to fire as the light faded grey. A second Great Fire through the Blitz was born, Leaving the city all blackened and torn. Twenty-eight bombs struck the dome in the air, Yet St. Paul's remained through the smoke and the flare.

#BoxingDay Forget the ring and the padded glove, It’s a tale of a box and a heavy shove. While the gentry snored in a velvet heap, The staff took the scraps that they got to keep. A "Thank You" in timber for the year's long haul. The original "Bonus" for the folks below hall.