Behind My Father's House

Ducks in the backyard

behind my father's house

feed on his corn

his garden's sweet delights.

 

Until the hawks sweep in

chasing away all the birds

that have come to feed

on his hard day's work

unfurled in the backyard

behind my father's house.

 

Fifty pounds of corn

he says

is what he feeds

them every week

to sit and watch them play

on his stone porch

smoking his cigar

delighting in naming them.

 

Daffy, is the name for the silly duck

the female one that runs about

with no care for the others

tame enough to raise herself

up the stairs and quack at him

as he enjoys the evening paper.

 

The three amigos as they are so called

the bachelors of them all

set aside in their little huddle

with no mates

yet partake

in the feed

my father so kindly offers.

 

Nine dollars every week

at Southern States

he spends on them

to gather all the ducks around

behind my father's house.

 

Woodducks, mallards, canvasbacks

all unite

to partake in the delight

that he offers

they sing their song

of thanks

as he enjoyes them everyday

the birds out in the garden.

 

Til once again

the hawks swoop in

chasing the ducks away

but only for a little while

as they soon return

to sing their song's of praise.

 

 

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Thanks, I added this to my favorites. It makes me feel like home. There's nothing better I could say.

[Forest Green]

Sweet and gentle pause along memory lane. I can easily imagine the entire setting through your words...even the cigar (a weakness of mine...;).

Very nice, precious tribute. I will remember this one for quite awhile.

Forest

[Tim McGovern]

Paints a great picture, I might edit out a verse or two or simply shorten it a little and it would have a greater impact.
Still it left me with a very clear image.
Nice work