Once there was a little duck,
Unlike any other,
For she didn’t have a mother duck,
Nor a sister or a brother.
Miss Popkins was an orphan duck -
Not like you or me -
And to bring herself up in our world
Was hard, you will agree.
But Popkins had a special friend
And Josie was her name.
She learnt a trick that helped a lot.
You’d say it was a game.
When Popkins was a baby duck,
The other ducks were rough.
They’d trample on her in their haste.
Her baby life was tough.
But Popkins learnt to wait and hide
Until the rest had gone,
And, when the others went back home,
I’d call to her: “Come on!”
Then out she’d pop from where she was,
Well hidden from the rest,
And Miss Popkins ate all by herself -
Which suited Popkins best!
Each day the sun rose in the sky
Each night the moon came out,
And Popkins slowly grew and grew,
Of that there was no doubt.
Her fluffy feathers disappeared,
Her adult plumage grew
And then one day, upon her wings,
Came flight feathers of blue.
She then knew that the day was near
When she could fly away,
And Popkins exercised her wings
Which strengthened every day.
She stayed close to the other ducks
Who taught her many things,
And following, when she saw them fly,
She tried her strong duck wings.
Up and around her lake she flew -
And quacked with sheer delight.
How strange to be a duck and see
Your world from such a height.
Her friends landed upon their lake
And so did Popkins too.
How glad she was to know that she
Could also do this too.
Miss Popkins now is quite grown up
And she's loved by me, it’s true -
And she sends a quack and hopes, one day,
That she’ll meet some of you.
Copyright on all my poems
Miss Popkins is standing on tip-toe because she's concentrating on the bread in my hand. She quickly learnt that you take any hard bread and dip it into water to make it soft. I taught her that little trick and she's a quick learner.