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Catford Snow Safari, by Lou Taylor.
Just last week parakeets screeched in the old oak trees
Squawking loud, so proud to be movie-star descended,
from extras in The African Queen.
Precocious grandkids of the ones that got away,
from Richmond Park to south-eastern parts.
Bright green, to be seen.
No need to migrate, just mate.
It's so mild, thriving in the wild.
Today the ghosts of greyhounds fill the misty sky
as snowflakes swirl by the railway lines.
Vanilla white carpet rolled out along the ground.
And Barratt Homes build residential blocks on land
where dogs once raced, and men gambled, and
shouted their cheers, beers in hand.
A bet and cold sweat for a 'four-legged friend',
wrapped up warm in the cold night stand.
Catford. Suburbia. A community feel.
Its very Centre feline. Mieew.
Omniscient as the Catford Cat.
Watching from on high
over you and I.
Black fibreglass, no class.
Tacky, you might say.
But in a lovable way.
More than a ford for wild cats:
There's dogs and cats
And screeching parakeets -
a playground for wildlife, an animal retreat.
Look around; hear the sound
of nature, of birdsong, of sanctuary -
In SE6 - Catford snow safari.