Here's one for each city I lived in for a significant portion of my life.
Skies of coldest blues,
What's left under your Temple?
Appearance and cogs.
Feast and be merry,
Alma Mater of wisdom!
A porch for the rain.
Fog over the spires,
Hasty steps in the morning.
Still yearning for home.
Skies of coldest blues,
What's left under your Temple?
Appearance and cogs.
Feast and be merry,
Alma Mater of wisdom!
A porch for the rain.
Fog over the spires,
Hasty steps in the morning.
Still yearning for home.
