Old Beantown
A poem inspired by Abby Phon’s “Boston skyline”

As the Sun begins to set on a warm and breezy day,

The Marvelous city Boston gleams,

High on the sox victory,

There is a secluded spot all to my own,

Away from the children playing in the streets,

And tourist’s packed like schools of fish following the freedom trail,

As I lie down on the Islamic green grass I survey the mystical world I belong to,

The Cobalt blue harbor lined with emerald green trees is an oasis from the lively metropolis,

The oasis is lined with egg shell white sails that dance in the sun light,

The light breeze drafts the sails which run across the water,

Suddenly the ships soar slapped by the sweeping breeze,

Whish,
Whish,
Whish,

A skyline like no other is featured in the extraordinary vista,

Structures built adjacent the harbor it bestows,

Vintage architecture neighboring modern high rises,

Early 20th century architecture lie humbly while,

Charcoal and cornflower blue dominate the panorama,

An island in the middle of the wharf,

Creased by emerald foliage,

Overlooked by the municipality,

As the Sun begins to set on a warm and breezy day,

The Marvelous city Boston gleams.