London's Summer Morning (2025)
Richard
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. Take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
Easy Mode - Auto check enabled
On scaffolded horizons. At the door,
The screech of buses, chatter in the streets,
Spills out, lattes in hand, as newsfeeds scroll
Mango, dragon fruit, and avocados ripe—
Who has not stirred to hear the restless hum
Earbuds humming podcasts, heads downturned.
And London, ever-changing, hums along.
The underground exhales its gusts of heat,
While buskers pluck at strings or drum on tins,
The pavement poets dream of better days—
Now sunlit glass ignites the towering spires
As screens announce delays in sterile tones.
Across impatient thumbs.
And oat-flat-white seekers queue in droves.
As traders banter over steaming woks.
Along the pavement, runners pace their miles,
Their rhythms swallowed by the sirens' wail.
Through sliding doors, the weary office swarm
While neon vests of builders blaze like fire
The courier drops a parcel, scanning codes,
The whoosh of cyclists weaving past in streams,
Cocktails raised to city skylines, while below,
After Mary Robinson
A takeaway bag swinging at his side.
On every corner, fruit stalls gleam with hues—
Glide past graffiti scrawled on shuttered shops.
Of corporate kingdoms; power-suited ghosts
Of London waking, bathed in amber light?
Now coffee machines whirr in glass-fronted shops,
Food vans perfume the air with scents of spice,
At dusk, the rooftop gardens glow with life,