Duck Poem

This is a poem I heard the other day. It's a good reminder for around the time when New Year's resolutions start to break down.

The Barnyard Ducks
Author Unknown

There are three ducks in our backyard
Dabbling in the mud and trying hard
To get their share, or even more,
Of the overflowing barnyard store
Satisfied with the task they’re at
Of eating, and sleeping, and just getting fat

But whenever the free, wild ducks fly by
Their long line streaming across the sky
They cock a quizzical, puzzled eye
And flap their wings and try to fly

Oh, I think my soul is a tame old duck
Dabbling around in barnyard muck
Fat and lazy, with useless wings
Yet sometimes, when the North wind sings
And wild ones hurtle overhead
It remembers something lost and dead
And cocks a lazy, bewildered eye
And flaps its wings, and tries to fly

Oh, it’s content with the state it’s in
But it’s not the duck it might have been