Scherzo

From troubles of the world

I turn to ducks,

Beautiful comical things

Sleeping or curled

Their heads beneath white wings

By water cool,

Or finding curious things

To eat in various mucks

Beneath the pool,

Tails uppermost, or waddling

Sailor-like on the shores

Of ponds, or paddling

Left! Right! - with fanlike feet

Which are for steady oars

When they (white galleys) float

Each bird a boat

Rippling at will the sweet

Wide waterway...

Yes, ducks are soothy things

And lovely on the lake

When the sunlight draws

Thereon their pictures dim

In colours cool.

And when beneath the pool

They dabble, and when they swim

And make their rippling rings,

O, ducks are beautiful things!

But ducks are comical things:

As comical as you.

Quack!

They waddle round, they do.

They eat all sorts of things,

And then they quack.

By barn and stable and stack

They wander at their will,

But if you go too near

They look at you through black

Small topaz-tinted eyes

And wish you ill.

Triangular and clear

They leave their curious track

In mud at the water's edge,

And there amid the sedge

And slime they gobble and peer

Saying "Quack! quack."

When God had finished the stars and whirl of coloured suns,

He turned His mind from big things to fashion little ones.

Beautiful tiny things (like daisies) He made, and then

He made the comical ones in case the minds of men

Should stiffen and become

Dull, humourless and glum:

And so forgetful of their Maker be

As to take themselves quite seriously.

And as for the duck, I think God must have smiled a bit

Seeing those bright eyes blink on the day He fashioned it.

And He's probably laughing still

At the sound that came out of its bill!