Obviously relating to this classic. Wondering whether I should send it to her.
The Wild Duck
The trees are in their autumn beauty; Dormant city streets Surround me as sienna pavements Pass beneath my feet. I saw - and lonesome beauty was her guise - A Duck before my eyes.
My nineteenth autumn crosses over, Men once young have aged, And from the pale and racing waters That once formed her cage Out she breaks, and lurching out unharmed She lands within my arms.
I have looked upon her terrible beauty And now my heart is sore, For I knew that once she quacked She would be seen no more; And not one man who passed along the brook Had turned to pay a look.
Weary by their far-bound lovers, Homeward they attend; Bidding vanity, they settle For a realm content, Jealous that their lives are bound by measure, While in my arms - a treasure.
But now she drifts upon still waters Far beyond the hill, And though the sun has set, my heart Is yearning for her still; And I fear that she shall find her rest Within another's nest.
Posted by TL (Member # 8124) on :
The duck?
Posted by Jonathan Howard (Member # 6934) on :
Metaphor, it's also her nickname. And ducks are awesomely cute, no?
Posted by AchillesHeel (Member # 11736) on :
... So Jonathan Howard posts a poem about a duck...
Duck.. Jonathan Howard... Howard... Duck... good one.
Posted by TL (Member # 8124) on :
Well, why wouldn't you send it to her?
Posted by TomDavidson (Member # 124) on :
No, don't send it to her. The women that would do you good won't be wooed by poetry.