From scraps of cloth
Chosen and sewn together with care
A quilt is made

Empty eyes and mouth
Stonily staring angrily
A Roman mask
Hide your feelings
If they are likely to hurt others
Spare them the pain


If it is very tall
No need to worry much
This is Tower Bridge

Tulips and a jar
In a Moroccan garden
Soothe my weary eyes

Stairs behind glass
How far upwards do they reach and why
I wish to know

With layers of roof
Golden Buddhas beneath
A pagoda indeed

Angels clinging
High up on a drafty corner
In Old Cambridge town

City of towers,
Students, books, and scholars
Astride the river Cam