Daisy, that’s my name, and I’m a duck
I’m fed up standing here knee deep in muck,
People passing point at us, they say it’s good for these
I just shrug my feathers, and give another sneeze.

It wasn’t bad last Christmas, the water turned to ice.
We skated on the slippery bits, that was very nice,
Until boys took old Oscar, they carried him away.
I followed them as best I could until I heard one say

"What do you think? Shall we dress him in orange or in plum?"
That didn’t sound bad, so I went back to tell his Mum,
They’re giving him new clothes, and then it’s back he’ll come,
Swanking in his finery, and wiggling his bum.

I like it best in Summer, swimming around the lake,
Leaving lovely little ripples in my wake.
Children come to feed us with stale cake and bread
I pretend that I don’t notice, when they aim hard bits at my head.

© Kathy McKay Sinclair