The parakeets of London

Are not particular about the weather

They sit out

On a snow sparkled scene

Kissing the trees of Kew

Rejoicing in their racket

Which reaches, rises, regales

Over the city’s roar

They are Hendrix’s

Hepburn’s hoodlums

They are a legend

Which lengthens

With every look

They are visitors no longer

This is the home they chose

And they will flock freely

Over the city skyline

A glittering gaze

Bright green paint

Splashed across a scene

With a flourish

Flying further now

To all corners of the country

So others may witness

London’s history

In full flight

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