Songs of Claudia and Reynard.
Claudia was a duck without a lot of sense,
She didn't like decisions, she liked sitting on the fence.
And though she spent a bit of time swimming in the pond,
Of strolling down the garden path she was particularly fond.
Reynard was a bouncy fox, a spring in every stride.
His rusty coat and bushy tail filled his heart with pride.
He strode out from the undergrowth around the garden gate,
And smiled at the chance that let him seal the poor ducks fate!
28.08.09
Claudia was a duck of very simple taste,
As Reynard will confirm if you meet him face to face!
28.08.09
Quack,
Snack!
07.10.09
Claudia had never learnt to sing
Just not her thing.
The mellow fluting of Blackbirds in spring
Disturbed her laying.
Poor Reynards' voice was always sharp and wheezy
It wasn't easy.
Barking in soprano at the moon and sounding sleazy.
So they never talked about it.
07.10.09
At the far side of the pond the lilies grow
And floating weeds blow.
Claudia will spend the day asleep,
A gentle movement of her feet to keep
Her from blowing to the shore.
Reynard will lounge casually, high and dry
Whispering soft lullabyes,
Keeping his fastidious feet quite clean
Of the clinging mud between them,
And yawning in the sun.
And so it is the days of summer pass.
The duck relaxed and floating through the weed,
Bobbing with the elegance of her class,
Discreetly anchored to the bottom by her feet.
The fox coiled languid on the grass,
Concealing his energy and speed
Licking his lips as bold as brass
Watching the sweet duck feed.
07.10.09
Reynard burst out with carnivorous glee
From the bush by the side of the pond.
He could see the fat duck, and she looked like his tea
As she grazed on the banks, and beyond.
The duck looked relaxed and asleep in the sun
But her bright beady eye stayed alert.
With her short flapping wings she had no need to run
And the sad hungry fox bit the dirt!
23.10.09
Reynard was a fox with impeccable taste
Not a hair on his nose was ever misplaced.
He was spic, he was span, he was trim round the waist
And paraded his charm around town.
Claudia was always far less organised
With wind ruffled plumage she always looked surprised
To find that she had scaly legs beneath her buxom thighs
And underwear of warm down.
Reynard was so dapper, yet he longed for a flapper!
Claudia felt sick, seeking a different kind of slick.
So they persued their strange mutual attraction
And neither of them quite found satisfaction.
23.10.09
Succulent duck, you are his favourite
To pluck and to bite, to suck and to savour it.
Shocks from a fox are a thing to avoid
Let him rant, let him rave and be mildly annoyed!
Neither of them ever thinks that roles could be reversed,
The hungry duck might chase the fox to slake her bloody thirst.
The fox content to drift away, languidly afloat
Without the wooden comfort and support of a boat.
Neither of them thinks the fox could ever be at ease
Showering in the gentle rain or flapping in the breeze.
The duck, saliva dripping from her ceaseless twitching bill
Scent the vulpine viand and anticipate the kill!
15.11.09
If I were a duck with a beak and a quack
I don't think I would care about rain on my back.
I would float in the sunlight and smile at the flowers
And paddle in circles for hours and hours.
If I were a fox filled with cunning and guile
I don't think I'd manage to tarry a while.
I would charge and cavort and pursue things with glee
With a swift glance behind to see who's chasing me.
So each of them follows the course of their life
Full of joy and elation, trouble and strife,
And I watch from the house and consider quite carefully
Whether there's anything else I would care to be?
20.11.09
Poor duck,
She spends her day
Feigning the nonchalence of prey.
Poor fox,
He spends the while
Hiding his nerves behind a smile.
28.12.09
The grass eating duck
Rejoices her luck
When she stumbles across a worm.
Emaciated fox
Sees his life on the rocks
When his fate takes the self-same turn.
She would dance and cavort at the thought she had caught it,
A sweet writhing treat for her grazing persistence.
He was sad and astounded he'd found on the ground
Just a morsel of hope in a hungry existence.
29.12.09
She's light on her feet when supported by water
But stumbles and slips when they walk as they ought'a.
He's fleet on his feet and he skips without sound
But he flails and splashes when floating around.
29.12.09
A bullet from a gun will seal Reynards fate, it's hard.
His funeral pyre will be the fire in the farmyard.
Claudia has a soft fate, will seem to evaporate.
A trembling patch of feathers on the grass will mark her passing.
In life their twisting fates were twinned,
In death they blow together in the wind.
29.12.09
They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder,
One is cooped, the other free to wander.
Some separation is essential, and in fact
The duckhouse serves to keep the status quo intact.
23.02.10
Reynard has furry legs that feel the cold.
Like every fox before him in the line
He will not fade, or gracefully grow old.
His violent end will come before his time.
And Claudia, whose scaly legs perturb the pending ice,
Will daily flee as lottery gives chase
And roll a seasons fotunes in the dice
That keeps her shredded body from the pancakes warm embrace.
23.02.10
There is a musty odour that betrays where Reynard's been,
And Claudia will leave a mark (and usually it's green).
23.02.10
The shining sun has lit the scene,
The yearly tango can begin.
As fox advances, duck retreats,
Long soft shadows pursue their feet.
Summer comes and stirs the sleeping bees
And golden light bejewels the restless trees.
Autumns bounty adorns the orchard floor
Or fortifies the waiting winter store.
There is no insight that would dare
Predict if duck or fox will still be there.
So Claudia and Reynard take the chance
And stride into the early seasons dance.
23.02.10
A tail is a wayward thing.
Reynard has a mighty brush
To terminate elastic skin.
A cushion of affection
That belies his toothy grin.
And Cladia has a slim delight.
Ungainly outline with a point.
Floating , bloating torso drifting light
Afore its roaring slipstream.
Unaccountably wagging side to side.
23.02.10
There once was a beady black eye and a quack,
With shining white feathers from her front to her back.
She had down on her body but not down to the ground
Which could muffle her toes but not muffle the sound.
Her friend was the fox, though neither admit it.
They gazed at eachother when time would permit it.
He barked in the winter, the sound was despairing,
His echoing solitude not meant for sharing.
There isn't a moral, there isn't a theme,
This isn't a romance or the text of a dream.
A duck and a fox express their identity
In life as it finds them, and not as it's meant to be.
19.07.10
The fox and the duck live one life in two parts,
The synchronous beat of a life with two hearts.
They each hide their fears as well as they're able.
The fox fears the hunt, and the duck fears the table.
Their hearts beat together though they stay well apart,
Their long-standing duel has been there from the start.
Their unlikely frienship a thing they both savour,
The duck hopes for love, and the fox longs for flavour.
The fox rooted rigid, the duck floats around,
Her feet in the water, his feet on the ground.
There's some bloody summary but let's skip around it.
The season is summery and neither has found it.
19.07.10