The Kayaking Blues

I hopped in my kayak
To go for a paddle
But then the rain started
And the skies, they did rattle

Okay, so I hurried
Back to my dock
As the rain quickly stopped
Like the works of a clock

I waited ten minutes
And all seemed so fine
Hopped back into boat
I’ll do better this time

But the process repeated
Itself to a tee
Of thunderstorm worries
I can’t get myself free

So at least for this evening
I’ll sit safe under cover
Perhaps then, tomorrow
For this kayaking-lover
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Taking Flight With All Their Might

The goslings who
All summer I’ve been spying
Just this week
Have taken to flying

They practice often
With Dad and Mom
Who are concerned
For wings to grow strong

Flying in silence
Must be no fun at all
So they honk-honk away
And to Mom and Dad call

Look at me! Look at me!
See what I can do
I’ll be part of the flock
When summer is through

Where they’ll fly then
I really know not
But watching them grow up
Makes me smile a lot

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Paddle Poetry

The moon is full
And oh so bright
And much to my
Supreme delight

The lake is calm
And oh so still
A perfect night
For a rare thrill

The temperature’s warm
No wind whatsoever
And so my hubby
Who’s oh so clever

Suggested we paddle
Out in our canoe
To look at the moon
And enjoy the view

Ducks paddle with us
The loons are calling
For extra magic
Some stars are falling

Paddling by moonlight
What a pleasure
Nights like this
I really do treasure

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Duckling Dearth


Every year
When I come back
To my Vermont
Summer shack

I know the ducks
Have survived
Because their ducklings
Have arrived

After mama
They follow along
On the lake
Where we all belong

But this year,
What a shock!
Nary a duckling
Near my dock

Have they found
A better lake?
That’s impossible
For goodness sake!

Maybe a late spring
Caused a duck dearth
And we must wait longer
For ducklings’ birth

Whatever the cause
I keep waiting and hoping
I don my binoculars
To do some lake scoping

Maybe this week
They’ll finally appear
But no ducks thus far
Is really quite queer

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Hello Vermont

When we get to Vermont
The first thing we do
Is put in our dock
And when we are through
We find the paddles
And hop in the canoe

When we get to Vermont
It’s usually late May
Although I’m a Vermonter
What can I say?
I don’t like cold weather
So until spring I’m away

When we get to Vermont
We sweep out the shack
Scare away the mice
And tell them we’re back
We buy a few groceries
And then we unpack

When we get to Vermont
The lake is unfrozen
A better spot for our shack
We could not have chosen
Got frolicking to do
So this poem I’m closin’

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Life in a Vermont Shack

Summer is
My favorite season
Listen up
To hear the reason

I go to Vermont 
Where I have this shack
Fancy amenities
It sure does lack

This shack of mine
Is on a lake
A setting like that
Ain’t hard to take

On the porch
I sit and sit
Do I get bored?
No, not one bit

The waterfowl
Make me happy
Sometimes I get
Downright sappy

The dock is small
But I like it a lot
In the whole wide world
It’s my favorite spot

Two weeks from now
I’ll pack the car
A very long trip
I’ll travel far

But boy it’s worth
The effort it takes
To get to Vermont
And be at the lake

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A Loony Obsession

You’d think it not possible
But yet it is so
I love them so much
I’ll give it a go

I think it’s my fourth
But it might be the third
When it comes to loon poetry
I am a real nerd

Please excuse the excess
But they give me delight
And this summer I’m happy
To report a new sight

The loons have a chick
Their nest did succeed
They prepare for the future
Of a glorious breed

In case you need telling
The chick is darn cute
And black is the color
Of his birthday suit

His parents do gather
Lots of fish for his feed
They are rather doting
They attend to his needs

At first on their backs
The time he would pass
But now that he’s bigger
And gaining some mass

He swims on his own
Between parents he bobbles
They stay close to help
If he starts to do wobbles

Eight weeks or about
And full grown he will be
To make the long journey
Out close to the sea

Next summer I’ll return
To this very spot
Hoping to see loons
Since an obsession I got

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New Loon Soon

The loons that live upon the lake
Try their best to babies make

They wait ‘til June and build a nest
They pick a spot they think is best

Taking turns they sit thereon
Two eggs tops, but likely one

They did the same this time last year
It didn’t work, Oh dear, Oh dear!

Let’s hope this time they do succeed
Since loons, my favorite waterfowl breed

Look and sound marvelous upon the lake
Parents and a baby would happy me make

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Loonatic Shtick

The loons off my dock
My summer they do rock

Big, black, and white
They are such a lovely sight

Magical creatures
With many mystical features

Oh, my goodness! Hark!
Is that them yodeling in the dark?

Haunting is the sound
Dreamy, and mellow, and profound

Another interesting fact?
The chicks ride mommy piggyback

Mom can’t walk around so hot
But skill at flying, swimming, and diving she do got

The nest is made
In the marshes in the shade

And Mom is not alone
Papa Loon spends lots of time at home

He shares duties nesting
While Mamma Loon goes off someplace resting

Come July we will have chicks!
And go ahead, call me a hick

But I cannot wait
For this most exciting date!