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The Rise And Fall Of Quacker Bilk

Poetry By: ben hardstaff

Tags: Humour

A poem i've written about a Jewish busking duck called "Quacker Bilk".

Submitted:Jan 2, 2013    Reads: 70    Comments: 12    Likes: 9   

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's clearly quite a writer too,

with a song at number one,

that's all about a cockatoo

from the land of Avalon.


He strums and drums on riverbanks,

then bows to huge applause,

from pirate frogs that hop the plank,

and lion fish that roar.


His mandolins and tambourines,

piccolo, 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 Quackers, 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.


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