A/N- this poem is HILARIOUS!
We all look on with anxious eyes,
When father carves the duck.
And mother almost always sighs,
When father carves the duck.
Then all of us prepare to rise,
And hold our bibs before our eyes,
And be prepared for some surprise,
When father carves the duck.
He braces up and grabs a fork
When'er he carves a duck.
And won't allow a soul to talk,
Until he's carved the duck.
The fork is jabbed into the sides,
Across the breast the knife he slides,
While every careful person hides,
From flying chips of duck.
The platter's always sure to slip
When father carves a duck.
And how it makes the dishes skip!
Potatoes fly amuck!
The squash and cabbage leap in space,
We get some gravy in our face,
And father mutters Hindu grace
When'er he carves a duck.
We then have learned to walk around
The dining-room and pluck
From off the window-sills and walls
Our share of father's duck.
While father growls and blows and jaws,
And swears the knife was full of flaws,
And mother jeers at him because
He couldn't carve a duck.
-ERNEST VINCENT WRIGHT-
YOU ARE READING
Paperback in Time
PuisiSo when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And music shall untune the sky. -Dryden This book is an idea I've been wanting to do for awhile. It's bas...
