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       #Post#: 10786--------------------------------------------------
       Backyard Ducks
       By: Willie T Date: February 16, 2020, 6:48 pm
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       An old poem of unknown authorship expresses our wistful longing
       for nobility.  I had almost forgotten I had it.
       I have three tame ducks in my back yard,
       Who wallow in the mud, and try real hard
       To get their share and even more
       of the overflowing backyard store.
       They're fairly content with the task they're at
       Of eating and sleeping and getting fat.
       But when the wild ducks fly by
       In a streaming line across the sky,
       They cast a wishful and quizzical eye
       And flap their wings and attempt to fly.
       I think my soul is a tame old duck
       Wallowing around in the barnyard muck,
       It's fat and lazy with useless wings
       But, once in awhile when the north wind sings
       And the wild ducks hurtle overhead
       It remembers something lost and almost dead,
       And it casts a wistful eye
       And flaps its wings and tries to fly.
       It's fairly content with the state that it's in
       But it isn't the duck that it might have been!
       #Post#: 10794--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Backyard Ducks
       By: Helen Date: February 16, 2020, 7:13 pm
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       [quote author=Willie T link=topic=734.msg10786#msg10786
       date=1581900491]
       An old poem of unknown authorship expresses our wistful longing
       for nobility.  I had almost forgotten I had it.
       I have three tame ducks in my back yard,
       Who wallow in the mud, and try real hard
       To get their share and even more
       of the overflowing backyard store.
       They're fairly content with the task they're at
       Of eating and sleeping and getting fat.
       But when the wild ducks fly by
       In a streaming line across the sky,
       They cast a wishful and quizzical eye
       And flap their wings and attempt to fly.
       I think my soul is a tame old duck
       Wallowing around in the barnyard muck,
       It's fat and lazy with useless wings
       But, once in awhile when the north wind sings
       And the wild ducks hurtle overhead
       It remembers something lost and almost dead,
       And it casts a wistful eye
       And flaps its wings and tries to fly.
       It's fairly content with the state that it's in
       But it isn't the duck that it might have been!
       [/quote]
       Oh my golly Willie...that one made me cry. [emoji22]
       Maybe because this old bod' can relate far too well!!
       I loved it.."it speaks" volumes doesn't it.
       Lord, touch Your people once again..blow upon us with Your
       mighty Holy Spirit , that these dry bones LIVE!!
       Thank you for that, it blessed my soul.
       I used to say to my grandkids when they were young.
       "Remember, you have wings".
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