Wot, no takers? Here's mine though a bit late.
Two Bridges
Westminster Bridge, two Wordsworths standing on it,
As underneath sweet Thames runs softly by;
Bill wears a hat and Dorothy a bonnet.
They lean upon the pediment and sigh.
'How beautiful!' they say to one another.
Says Dorothy, 'How fair the rising sun!'
'That's good. That's very good,' agrees her brother,
Who thinks a sonnet on it might be done.
A new bridge now, no Wordsworths, both long dead,
Old privilege subsumed in new skullduggery,
Old Empire waxing, waning, put to bed,
New Thames embanked, Parliament burned to buggery.
Temples of glass and steel ascend the Heavens,
And the mad world's at sixes and at sevens.
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