A dozen wee ducks strolled outside
The hen that hatched them followed and tried
To mother them and be their guide,
As the wee ducks waddled on.
They reached the brink of a big horse pool
Where quacked a drake that scorned hen rule
“I’m your daddy. That’s hen’s a fool
Come on, Web toes, come on.”
The poor hen cried till her eyes grew dim.
The wee ducks all enjoyed their swim
With daddy drake. They stayed with him
And bade the hen begone.
Poor old hen! let me weep with you
For my wee ducks – they left me too.
When they grew up away they flew,
And left me all alone.
Poor hen with you I sympathise
My own wee ducks – they did likewise,
Now I am all alone. Let’s rub thumbs
But you’ve none.
MICHAEL MULLIN ‘The Bard of Foremass
Foremas Lower, Sixmilecross.