Poems From Bard to Verse
The Twelve Days
On the first day of
Christmas my true love said to me
"let's feed that poor chickadee"
On the second day of Christmas we bought a pound of seed
(more than we need?) for that one hungry cold chickadee.
On the third day of Christmas, we had to buy more feed for two
squirrels squawking, and a small group of chuckling chickadees.
On the fourth day of Christmas fifty pounds of corn for two bucks a
leaping, one possum creeping, and a skunk --now a hibernatee.
On the fifth day of Christmas we had to buy more feed
for two geese a gorging, two moles a munching, three siskins seeking,
two mallard ducks, ten mourning doves, and a woodchuck living 'neath
On the sixth day of Christmas, twenty pounds of seed
for four cardinals chirping, five does a burping, five finches
filching, two jays a jabbering, one voracious vole, four mallard
ducks, and a half dozen chattering chickadees.
On the seventh day of Christmas we satisfied the greed
of five juncos jerking, two chipmunks chipping, six Downies pecking
(and suet wrecking) five greedy geese, two red squirrels, and one
dozen cheerful chickadees.
On the eighth day of Christmas, we couldn't meet the need
for four grackles greedy, eight cardinals needy, four white eared
squirrels, (one with no tail), ten mallard ducks, one gourmet dog and
a hawk, hungry in a fir tree.
On the ninth day of Christmas our whole backyard was bare
-The hawk was the only one there.
On the tenth day of Christmas, we did our daily deed for four nuts a
hatching, five crows a croaking, three raccoons robbing, twelve geese
a "greasing", one Hairy hunting, one neighbor laughing, twenty
mallard ducks, three French hens (escaped from their pens?) deer from
the park, (where is the ark?) and a whole flock of chomping chickadees.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, included in our mail
were three books on birding, four ads for feeders, two catalogs,
seed, and a blank from the Audubon club.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love said to me, "Here's what
we need: two sunflower sacks (for morning snacks), more Niger
seed, suet cakes indeed, two bags of corn (more squirrels were born),
and to be frank--a trip to the bank, and a heated wire wildlife winter
On the next day of Christmas I had to end this song
I couldn't keep on counting, buying bags and barreling, furious futile
feeding, endlessly repeating Bon Appititing, twelve songs a singing,
Christmas bells a ringing, finishing this greeting, thus our
Christmas to All Creatures Great and Small!"
The TDOC (WHBY) poem was printed
in the Eagle River-Three Lakes paper.
with the kind permission of the author Mel Wade - © December
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All poems are the
original creation of Mel Wade and may not be reprinted without his written
E-mail Mel Wade at: melwade at execpc dot com
copyright © 2003 Lloyd Cook - All rights reserved.
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Saturday, March 24, 2012