A group of doleful mallard ducks
Are sitting in the rain
And I’m sure that they are wondering
When the sun will shine again.
And whilst the rain pours down on them,
They’re preening oily feathers.
It’s these which keep them warm and dry
Despite the cold, wet weather.
How can you tell the ducks from drakes?
Well who have the green heads?
It’s drakes who have the feathers bright
And their wives are brown instead.
But listen to that raucous voice –
The female’s quacking loud.
She’s thirteen ducklings on the lake
And feels so very proud.
On rivers, streams or on a lake
That’s where they love to meet –
With bottoms up and heads well down,
They’re finding food to eat.
Now look down at those orange feet
And tell me what you see -
Look - two webbed feet to help them swim -
But no webbed feet for me.
They’ve waddled over icy grass.
Their feet are never cold.
A duck in boots? Well that would be
Quite something to behold!!
Copyright on all my poems