Love A Duck
Mammy duck leaves the bank,
Baby ducks follow plop plop,
Daddy duck rear guard
Safe from the predators.
Sadly the little ones are
Easy pickings for the eels,
Grow little ones grow very fast,
Then you will be too big for the eels grasp.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Love A Duck
Mammy duck leaves the bank,
Baby ducks follow plop plop,
Daddy duck rear guard
Safe from the predators.
Sadly the little ones are
Easy pickings for the eels,
Grow little ones grow very fast,
Then you will be too big for the eels grasp.
Black swans arrive with six white little ones
At the spot where they all look for crumbs,
My poodle Beau goes close for a sniff
A black flying swan flies out, whoosh goes biff.
Beau scurries off with a really loud yelp
To run in between my legs for human help,
No more going near baby swans with daddy around
He will stick to spraying trees it’s safer he’s found.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My shoes and my duck
My shoes and I are quite good friends you see
Often they have chats with me
They tell me things doesn’t matter when
Day or night
They ask me please to lace right
Tell me how to wear them right
I have many pair but only one do I love
They are blue and white
Just like the morning and its dove
That flies around with all their might
My shoes fight in my closet in the black of night
Over which one I will ware on my bike
But I can never forget my duck
To which I can always turn to trust
My friend that is always there
Telling me no lies
And awaiting my return home
From my eight hour chore
My duck can’t swim
my duck can’t quake
My duck just sinks
with a rock on his back
My duck can’t cry
my duck can’t sing
my duck just cant do anything
My ducks no duck and I know why
my duck is stuffed
my duck can’t fly...
I love my duck
Can’t you see why
So in the end
I wouldn’t trade my shoes for any red bull
Or my duck for any frog
Even though one might give me wings
Or one might make noise now and again
I love my blue shoes and my stuffed duck
P.S. the Saint helped me write parts of this, so I owe him a thank you, and just so you all know not all mine.
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Duck
It is a white duck
During the rains a band of ducks afloat
against the cloud laden skies
only remind of the duck
The duck that wings unseen in the morning
and in the night
carrying the sunbeams and moonbeams
in its roseate beaks
The duck that lives on light
The duck that is the mount of Knowledge and Wisdom
Knowledge and wisdom always fights with one another
But when they ride the duck
they hold each other with loving arms
Or else they might fall from the shoulders of the duck
and break into pieces
In that case no one will be able to bring the pieces together
Alas! Alas!
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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The poor ducks
A duck was given a place among geese
For its brain; fellow ducks beamed with that.
The exalted duck behaved like a goose
And severed ties with its fellow ducks.
Don’t exult some one your tribe
Or religion has been elevated
15.03.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Duck at Haldon Ponds
At evening watches the duck
slow feeding the waterline.
Praises the duck. Such a fine
white miracle breasting the mayfly.
Green of her tail feathers,
space of her neck doubled in water
paddles off with my mind.
Ducks I have known.
Old duck mates of mine
inspecting the meeting of air and liquid.
Make no mistake, duck.
I´d like to eat you well cooked
one bell-battered Sunday in April.
And I´d wear your gorgeous feathers in my hat,
make a soup of the bones
and give your leftovers to the cat.
I Want A New Duck
Woh oh
I want a new duck
One that wont try to bite
One that wont chew a hole in my socks
One that wont quack all night
I want a new duck
One with big webbed feet
One that knows how to wash my car
And keep his room real neat
One that wont raid the ice box
One thatll stay in shape
One thats never gonna try to migrate or escape
Or Ill tie him up with duck tape
I want a new duck
A mallard I think
One that wont make a mess of my house
Or build a nest in the bathroom sink
I want a new duck
One that wont steal my beer
One that wont stick his bill in my mail
One that knows the duck stops here
One that wont drive me crazy waddling all around
One wholl teach me how to swim and help me not to drown
And show me how to get down
How to get down baby
Get it?
*****
*****
*** ****
****
*** ***
I want a new duck
Not a swan or a goose
Just a drake I can dress real cute
Think Im gonna name him bruce
I want a new duck
Not a quail or an owl
One that wont molt to much
One that wont smell too fowl
One that wont beg for breadcrumbs
Hangin around all day
Hed better mind his manners
Better do just what I say
Or hes gonna be duck patte, duck patte, yah, yah
*
*****
***** (*** ** **)
****
*******
(lots of quacking sounds)
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Poem is Just a Joke
An Irish duck shooter set off with three friends
All with their dogs and flasks of tea
At the end of the day
The Irishman was a learner and did not bag a single duck
Which he thought was very very bad luck.
The next week when he met his three friends
For another duck shoot
He had a huge catapult in his car boot
“What is the catapult for Paddy? ”
“Oh I know why I didn’t get any ducks last week,
I wasn’t throwing the dog high enough! ”
poem by Ken e Hall
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Ducks of Equality
Dark brown-black ducks
splish-splash and
pitter-patter on
gently rocking waves
of glee
When a light gray-white duck
tip-taps and
tip-toes
shyly shivering
'May I join? ' quacks he.
The dark brown-black ducks
easily accept
the light gray-white duck
as one of their own
and joyfully they swim and play
In chilly water
'til they're freezing to the bone
And I wonder:
Why can't America be
more like the
dark brown-black ducks
and the
light gray-white duck
floating on the waves
of acceptance and equality?
poem by Charlotte Riddle
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If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, looks like a duck, it must be a duck.
If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it's probably a duck.
Duck! Don't Stick Your Neck Out
How many quacks does a quack quack quack
before he ducks for fish?
How many ducks does a quack quack duck
before his fish is fished?
How many geese's goose is cooked
because they ate up all the fish?
How many cooks cook geese
before their goose is cooked?
How many fowl fall foul
of fowl hunting cooks?
How many fowls' geese are cooked
before they flew from a foul hunting cook?
How many ducks' goose is cooked
because he didn't duck duck duck
when a fowl cook reached for his neck?
poem by David Taylor
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When I see a bird that walks like a duck and swims like a duck and quacks like a duck, I call that bird a duck.
quote by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Duck and the Kangaroo
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo,
'Good gracious! how you hop!
Over the fields and the water too,
As if you never would stop!
My life is a bore in this nasty pond,
And I long to go out in the world beyond!
I wish I could hop like you!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
'Please give me a ride on your back!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
'I would sit quite still, and say nothing but 'Quack',
The whole of the long day through!
And we'd go to the Dee, and the Jelly Bo Lee,
Over the land, and over the sea;
Please take me a ride! O do!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
Said the Kangaroo to the Duck,
'This requires some little reflection;
Perhaps on the whole it might bring me luck,
And there seems but one objection,
Which is, if you'll let me speak so bold,
Your feet are unpleasantly wet and cold,
And would probably give me the roo-
Matiz!' said the Kangaroo.
Said the Duck, 'As I sat on the rocks,
I have thought over that completely,
And I bought four pairs of worsted socks
Which fit my web-feet neatly.
And to keep out the cold I've bought a cloak,
And every day a cigar I'll smoke,
All to follow my own dear true
Love of a Kangaroo!'
Said the Kangaroo, 'I'm ready!
'All in the moonlight pale;
'But to balance me well, dear Duck, sit steady!
'And quite at the end of my tail!'
So away they went with a hop and a bound,
And they hopped the whole world three times round;
And who so happy - O who,
As the Duck and the Kangaroo?
poem by Edward Lear
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Go Ducks!
Ducks are fast and ducks will win,
Once you're a duck, you're not human again,
You are a football machine,
You learn how to bite back, and get mean!
And once you quack,
You never go back!
poem by Jade Blaydes
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Have You Heard a Duck Hiccup?
Has anyone seen the elite eat beets?
Has anyone ever seen them pat their feet?
Have you ever seen them groove in seats?
Or bust a move sweating in the Summer heat?
Have you heard a duck hiccup?
Have you heard a moth cough,
Flying in a loft?
Have you seen a bison eat?
And why aren't they called Buffalo,
With hot wings?
Adam and Eve I can see in Eden.
But I can't see either one elite.
I can even see them grooving in the heat.
But I can't see them with ducks cuttin' up!
Oh. Oh.
Oh. Oooohhh-a-noooah.
Has anyone seen the elite eat beets?
Has anyone ever seen them pat their feet?
Have you heard a duck hiccup?
~Huh? ~
Oh. Oh.
Oh. Oooohhh-a-noooah.
'What? '
~Huh? ~
'What? '
~Huh? ~
Have you heard a duck hiccup?
Oh. Oh.
Oh. Oooohhh-a-noooah.
'What? '
~Huh? ~
'What? '
~Huh? ~
Have you heard a duck hiccup?
Oh. Oh.
Oh. Oooohhh-a-noooah.
'What? '
~Huh? ~
'What? '
~Huh? ~
Have you heard a duck hiccup?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Cold Grey Wintry Day
On this cold, gray-wintry day,
The sun is nowhere to be found.
Listen! I hear the rain:
Pit pat, pit pat—dripppppp, plop.
Pit pat, pit pat—dripppppp, plop.
Like a sad song, its music play
To the melancholy lyric of:
“A Cold, Gray Wintry Day.”
poem by Walterrean Salley
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The Muscovy Duck
The rooster is a brainless dude, although he sports a crest,
The hen’s an awful fool we know, though hen-eggs are the best;
She’ll flutter, cackling, anywhere save through a gate or door,
And try to hatch a door-knob, too, for forty days or more.
The turkey is of small account, we’ll let it go in peace,
And other fowls are ornaments, and geese are simply geese;
But over all that cackle, hiss, or gobble, quack, or cluck,
My favourite shall always be the quaint Muscovy duck.
I’m fond of Mrs Muscovy, I think she knows the most
Of all the different kinds of fowls that poultry-breeders boast.
She knows best how to build her nest when laying time is past,
And you should see the knowing pride with which she sets at last.
She waddles out for food and drink—she’s not afraid of us,
And if we fix her now and then she doesn’t make a fuss;
No frantic flaps of useless wings, no cackle, hiss, nor cluck,
She’s queen of all philosophers—the quaint Muscovy duck.
It is a wondrous thing to see, and a wondrous thing to tell,
Her ducklings know as much as ducks the day they leave the shell.
That she is proud as proud can be, is plain to any dunce—
The little ducklings set to work to grow up ducks at once;
And, on a sunny winter’s day, ’tis a good thing for the eyes
To see her waddle round and watch her ducklings catching flies,
I love her for her waddle, and her patience, and her pluck,
Her wag of tail and nod of head—the quaint Muscovy duck.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Unwanted Wealth
On the way home from school
you and Helen stopped
and looked in the window
of the pie and eel shop
where a man was cutting off heads
of live eels
and then slitting them open
and knifing out the guts
and then chopping them
up into small pieces
and Helen said
yuk what's he doing
to those poor eels?
you were engrossed in watching
the man's knife slit through
the necks so easy
that the pieces still wriggled
after he pushed them
into a bucket on the side
people eat them
you said
whether jellied
or in pies
with mash and liquor
horrible
Helen said
how could they?
People will eat anything
you replied
turning to gaze
at her horrified face
her eyes magnified
behind her thick lens spectacles
I read somewhere
that some people ate others
in the Leningrad siege
you added
she grabbed your hand
and squeezed it tight
they never did
you're lying
she said
her eyes focused on you
and not the eels
or the man executing them
you saw her lower lip tremble
and said
ok they didn't
you said softly
she looked back at the man
and the eels
and sighed
and you felt her warm flesh
and her small thumb
on the back of your hand
and although you knew
what had happened
you lied to protect her
from the truth
not wanting her innocence
undone by brutal humanity
and its wars
and you kept it
to your 9 year old self
a whole bundle of facts
like an unwanted wealth.
poem by Terry Collett
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Fog
There's a little child
Running round this house
And he never leaves
He will never leave
And the fog comes up from the sewers
And glows in the dark
Baby alligators in the sewers grow up fast
Grow up fast
Anything you want it can be done
How did you go bad?
Did you go bad?
Did you go bad?
Somethings will never wash away
Did you go bad?
Did you go bad?
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alligators In New York Sewers
There's a little child
Running round this house
And he never leaves
He will never leave
And the fog comes up from the sewers
And glows in the dark
Baby alligators in the sewers grow up fast
Grow up fast
Anything you want it can be done
How did you go bad?
Did you go bad?
Did you go bad?
Somethings will never wash away
Did you go bad?
Did you go bad?
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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