Flap and Fuss
two young and high strung
city pond ducks
slowly paddle by the local city park's
man made shore
taking a nice leisurely swim together
and summer tour
eying each and every bread crumb
that is carelessly thrown either each
his way
to challengingly retrieve
dunking head, neck deep into waters
of a warm misty gray
while Lady Swan
the much too large and unfair Duchess
of the pond
holds her own in this very serious game
steam boating proudly up the already
too busy water way
catching poor Flap with the broad side
of her stout yet stately pose
knocking him nearly a foot away
until Fuss pays her back with a loud
ducky thwack up side her big beaky nose
Fruit Loop Fred
a gargoyle green frog
who's name is for what he most likes to
eat
bears witness to the Fowl comedy from a top
his homely hallowed log
but to him such performance is not a treat
such harsh head smacking and foul feather
attacking is not at all his afternoon muse
for he would much rather see
that is a wise frog such as he
Ducks that love to sleep
making not a single peep
as he too attempts an afternoon snooze
now wouldn't that be sweet
but he soon believes not today
will he for even a single second have
his way
for the not so 'Lady' like Swan has
cornered poor Flap and Fuss
in dire attempt to truss them up
and have the entire pond all to herself
for the rest of the balmy day
and that is how it is in this wild
prattler's pond of play
move about while you still can
and never steer toward shore or sand
for Lord Swan will force you himself onto land
lickedy split!
and for the rest of the longgggggggggg
hot summer's day
there you will sit
and stay and stay
that is when you are not
constantly waddling away
from grabby little toddler's hands that
refuse to quit
there, there now
what 'A Perfectly Ducky Day'
wouldn't you say?...................
(Jan. 19, 1995)
Thank you for the very nice comment on my poem "A Glaring Presence." Glad it worked so well for you. I will read some of your poems. I just read this one, and I think it is extremely well written. I wrote a children's poem about a turtle. It is meant to be read slowly:
Dylan Turtle's Poem:
~There and Here~
I will never see the sea.
It's much too far a walk for me.
By the time I put my feet in sand
I would be one-hundred-ten.
I will never find the mighty redwood stands.
They're far away in distant lands.
If I started now to go to them
I might get there when I'm one-hundred-ten.
I'll never stroll a great city street.
Getting to it would wear out my feet.
If I started now I would get there when
I turn one-hundred-ten.
But I'm perfectly happy beside this pond.
To get here I simply wake-up, stretch, and yawn.
© Dan Tompsett
"There is no good writing, only good editing."