Battersea

Battersea

As a child
Battersea seemed to me a most mysterious place
combining two of my favourite things
batter, which wrapped the weekly offering with our chips;
and the sea, where swam the fish in my batter,
like a pea green memory.
Battersea,
home of the hound,
the lost and the found.
We would often pass by and i would cry
"can we get a big black Labrador dad"?
but we always seemed to slip past those darkened gates,
bowing our heads as dad reminded us of their fates.
My heart yearned to set one free,
to bring it home, free from its dark captivity.
Then one day, i spotted our dog,
Charlie the Dalmatian,
full of mischief and sneezes
and everything that pleases.
"but its not Black dad"
"you want me to take it back lad" he retorted
but Charlie just snorted,
and my heart melted.
As a child,
Battersea seemed to me a most mysterious place
combining three of my favourite things.
Battersea
Home of the Hound,
the lost and the found.

© Richard Michael Parker 2009