WALKING MY DUCK

WALKING MY DUCK



Sitting here by the fire, I was thinking of a man and his duck.
Now I know you are going to call me a liar, but this is the way
the story came too me. I didn’t add or take away, oh maybe
just a wee. As you can see this isn’t a story you would keep
under your hat. So here it comes from where I sat.

I was going to walk my dog,
but he was sleeping like a log.
With my usual run of luck,
I ended up walking my duck.

He didn’t chase a thing, or even smell
But did he have a story to tell.

Not being bilingual I didn’t know
what was on his mind,
or even if he had a mind.
Then I started to worry about mine.

Here I was on a bright clear day,
walking a duck with so much to say.
I caught myself answering with an uhuh
Oh dear - -
I hope one was near.
For they might put me away,
on this nice bright day.
All because this darn duck
has so much to say.

He talks all the way to the pond,
and all the way back.
I get so tired of hearing
QUACK, QUACK, QUACK.

But I probably do it again tomorrow
though he talks like a politician, you see,
with him I tend to agree.


© Prof Don T. Nomuch 2006