The Rise And Fall Of Quacker Bilk
In the cooling shade of a banyan tree,
On the banks of the river Dilk,
Lives a Jewish duck of ninety three,
By the name of 'Quacker Bilk'.
-
A master on the clarinet,
On harpsichord, a star.
He once composed a minuet
upon his gold guitar.
-
He strums and drums on riverbanks,
Then bows to huge applause,
From pirate frogs that hop the plank,
And lion fish that roar.
-
He's clearly quite a writer too,
With a song at number one,
That's all about a cockatoo,
From the land of Avalon.
-
His mandolins and tambourines,
His trumpets, drums and flute,
Are kept in padded mezzanines
With shiny horns that hoot.
-
This busking duck's a prodigy.
A genius it seems.
A fowl of finest pedigree,
With super self esteem.
-
By eighteen months, he'd learnt guitar.
By two, an old bassoon.
He'd play to crowds from near and far,
On sunny afternoons.
-
For Quacker's, life was rosy red,
With record deals in sight.
And news of Quacker's talents spread,
To his manager's delight.
-
But something changed, and Quacker's fame
Destroyed the charming duck.
The tunes he played just weren't the same,
But Quackers passed the buck.
-
He blamed his ageing instruments,
But couldn't face the fact:
His time had gone. It came and went.
He'd simply lost the knack.
-
So still, he stands on riverbanks,
And plays to jogger's dogs.
Then strums and drums, and clinks and clanks
In local synagogues.
| 
Email this Poetry
| 
Add to reading list
