Out in the country we reside, <br />where creatures still can be companions, <br />they share with us and we with them, <br />and all observe their code of ethics. <br /> <br />On Sunday morn, I rode my bike <br />to get the bulky Weekend Paper, <br />when at the creek a family <br />of Mallard ducks were on their way <br /> <br />to Mallard Services on Sunday, <br />dark-feathered duck with cleric collar <br />presides from up on knotty branch <br />of fragrant Eucalyptus majesty. <br /> <br />The last dirt road they had to cross <br />their Mallard bibles clutched with pride <br />was rather busy on that day. <br />A shiny, big and ugly brute <br /> <br />with four-wheel-drive and 14 lights <br />was now approaching, at fair speed <br />just at the moment when Big Mal <br />and all his children waddled there. <br /> <br />It was enough to make him glow <br />with fires of Adrenalin, <br />he knew his role was to protect <br />the wife and precious family. <br /> <br />So he attacked, with speed and skill, <br />just like a kamakazi fighter, <br />and broke his neck against the grill, <br />thus saved the day for all with pride. <br /> <br />Yet, he was dead, a fallen hero, <br />they'd pray for him, God would be kind. <br />And High Priest Mallard said his words <br />about the loss and who he was <br /> <br />When they went home in time for lunch <br />one of the elders led the way. <br />He had not come to see them safely, <br />across the road, no he had seen <br /> <br />the beauty in her twinkling eye <br />and they went on, while chatting lightly <br />then hand in hand, down by the creek, <br />at lunch Old Mal had been forgotten <br /> <br />and all her feathers had been ruffled, <br />by new, exciting acts of love. <br />She told the kids 'this your father <br />the other one is with the Father..'<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mallard-loyalty/
