The morning sky has a crest of a moon
Sitting up over my window's horizon,
Tall conifers compete with chimney stacks,
Castle top turrets and white office blocks;
The trickling traffic from King’s Cross below
Meets life coming into the city.
It’s quiet out there at four in the morning,
(The calm before the storm) ,
While the lights of the street lamps
Grow dimmer towards dawn
From my fourth floor eye on old London.
Matt Mooney
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-eye-on-london/
