Twas the night before tomorrow,
when in our front yard
came a shout from my husband,
"Come see this mallard!"
But I in my longjohns,
post-shower, all clean,
had just settled for the night
in front of the computer screen.
"But you must see this!"
said he in a fury,
"They are cute and adorable!
Quick! You must hurry!"
I threw on some clothes,
put my hair in a bow,
And lo! There they were!
All the ducks in a row.
My heart did melt
at the sight of these creatures,
their tiny beaks,
and their feathered features.
The mother bird warned,
"It looks like rain!"
(It was just the sprinkler,
but they DO have tiny brains.)
The freshly cut grass
they thoroughly enjoyed,
strewn about with bugs
they didn't avoid.
Suddenly I was struck
with a brilliant idea.
"Get some bread!" I yelled,
"Or maybe a tortilla?"
They didn't enjoy it
much to my chagrin.
Perhaps it's the carbs,
and they're trying to stay thin?
Through all of the ruckus
we failed to regard
the poor dog in the window,
watching over the yard.
His tail said playful,
but his eyes whispered sin.
Experience has taught us
his belly they'd be in.
As darkness settled,
away they did go.
Happily ever after they lived.
Or...we assume so.
THE END
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