The Duck Called Samuel Puddlington: A Poem

May 3, 2017 at 4:21 pm (Humour, Nature, Poetry) (, , , , , )

Samuel Puddlington The Duck looking very dapper

The duck called Samuel Puddlington was going to the grand ball
wearing a spiffy bow tie made him look 6 feet tall
It was going to be a grand event
attended by the Duchess of Kent

And so the duck waddled his way into the limousine
and sat next to a froggy green
“Ribbit! Ribbit!” said the frog
as he sat on a bump on a log.
“Rabbit! Rabbit!” said the big-eared hare
as he munched on a carrot orange and fair.

The limo pulled into the grounds of Mossdale Hall
packed with limos, the cars were at a crawl
Samuel Puddlington got out of the car
and inquired, “Good man, do they have a bar?”.
“Of course, you ninny,” said the chauffeur
while the rabbit stopped to wash his fur.

To the house the three went,
rabbit, frog and ducky gent
They knocked on the big front door
on which hung the head of Thomas More
“Too bad King Henry didn’t get around to burying him,” Sam remarked
while the estate’s Saint Bernard dog laughed and barked.

The butler arrived and opened the door
behind him was a luxurious floor
The three animals entered and wiped their feet
if a rug had been there, the floor would still look neat.

Samuel Puddlington headed straight for the bar
waddling faster than a Daytona race car
Said he, “I like my martinis shaken not stirred.”
The bartender replied, “Don’t be a James Bond nerd”.

Puddlington delivered him a karate kick with one of his orange webbed feet
The bartender hit the ground like the dust bowl on Texas’ Pecos Pete
Said the duck, “I’m Double-O Seven, you half-brained twit
to tangle with me, you must show true grit.”

“Now that you’ve tangled, how about the tango?”
said a voice as melodious and sweet as a mango.
It was a lovely Latina senorita
who got goose bumps looking
at this fowl male Nikita.

So the duck and the senorita held hands
(or should I say feet?)
And they did dance to an Argentinian beat
The duck and the Latina lass
they really did show such class
a dip here
and a raised skirt there
they soon became the talk of this county fair.

And so now you’ve met Samuel Puddlington the Duck
whose bill gives a greater bang for one’s buck.

Samuel Puddlington The Duck with bill

-A poem written by Christopher
Wednesday May 3rd 2017.


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Atlas The Wee Giant Bunny Rabbit of Glasgow: A Poem

February 9, 2016 at 9:12 pm (Humour, Nature, News, Poetry) (, , , , , , , , )

Atlas The Wee Giant Bunny Rabbit of Glasgow

He’s Atlas the bunny
he takes tea with his honey
a disposition that is sunny
and his antics are funny

Such joy you can’t buy for money
but you can have from a bunny
and maybe teach him to play gin rummy

-A poem written by Christopher
Tuesday February 9th 2016

inspired by this BBC News Story from Glasgow, Scotland:

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A Letter To Jack O’ Hare

September 10, 2011 at 8:15 pm (Personal essays) (, , )

This is a letter I’m writing to Jack O’ Hare the wild hare jack rabbit who used to live in my back yard but doesn’t hang out as often since my dad died.

Dear Jack,

I hope all is well. How long have we known each other now? About 4 or 5 years?

I didn’t know jack rabbits lived that long.

But you were the same rabbit.

For what other rabbit in the wintertime would I see his footprints in the snow following me?

You had followed me 4 blocks up to the neighbourhood pub. For I could see your footprints in the snow.

You may have followed me in summer too but I had no way of knowing unless I saw you.

My dad got a kick when he used to look out the window and see you down on the ground.

While he watched you, you were busy watching through the basement window watching me work on my computer.

At first I didn’t believe my dad but then on at least 2 or 3 occasions, I used to look behind me at the basement window and see you there watching me.

You in many ways acted like my guardian angel.

Watching me when I walked to and from the pub.

Watching me as I worked on the computer.

You vanished when my dad got sick with cancer.

And only showed up again on the day my dad died to pay your condolences.

You did the same thing the day of my dad’s funeral.

For the first living creature I saw when I exited the house that day was you.

The past year I would occasionally see you again and always on days that were crucial in the past year.

You showed up the day I received the call my dad’s house had to be sold and I would have to move.

It’s strange how I never did see too many jack rabbits in downtown Edmonton.

Well in fact none at all until the past week.

Then in the space of the past week, I’ve seen 3 different jack rabbits in downtown Edmonton.

Now that I’m moving from the suburbs to the City’s downtown itself, I guess you sent the message to your cousins in the big City to start looking out for me.

Well as you know Jack- things move quickly when they happen.

My godfather and I went to see the Estate lawyer last Thursday.

The lawyer wants me out of the house pronto to begin the process of selling.

Within the space of 24 hours, I found the apartment I wouldn’t mind calling home.

And next Wednesday September 14th 2011, I shall be moving into that apartment.

So I guess this is good-bye, Jack.

Will I ever see you again?

Probably not unless we meet in Heaven?

Do I believe animals go to Heaven?

Well writer and theologian C.S. Lewis believed that.

So if it’s good enough for C. S. Lewis.

It’s good enough for me.

You may not know it, Jack but you developed a base of fans here at Xanga.

All the short stories and poems I wrote about you, they were the most popular among many Xangans.

@Daniella_Aalyiah_Li loved hearing about you.

@RestlessButterfly my good friend Rez loved hearing about you.

And so did her two nieces Arrabella @Arrabella_Lyka and Jessenia @PrincessDiyanaAleeya.

So you had a devoted fan club here at Xanga, Jack.

I hope Jack for your sake that I do become a famous writer.

Because if the world hears about me, then the world will read about you since I’ve written so much about you.

This remarkable rabbit who befriended a human being.

This rabbit who watched the human as he worked at his computer.

This rabbit who followed the human to the pub to ensure his safety in the dregs of winter.

This rabbit who befriended a human being.

And vice versa.

It was a privilege to have known you, Jack.

Good bye my friend.

Should I say with the French au revoir?

Until we meet again?

I think so.

For I’d love to meet you again.

In the meantime we have the words of assurance from that old animated cartoon I saw as a kid An American Tale, “Somewhere out there beneath the pale moonlight, someone’s thinking of you… we’re still underneath the same big sky.”

Your friend,

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