Wednesday, April 11, 2007

The Fowl Ball -- a party poem

Gregory K.

I went to the Fowl Ball
Held at stately Barnyard Hall.
The Chicken came. The Duck did not.
The Pheasant danced the Turkey Trot.
The Rooster grabbed the microphone.
The Hen performed on slide trombone.
We laughed and played, a happy group....
And danced until we flew the coop.

(I'm posting an original poem-a-day through April in celebration of National Poetry Month. Links to this and other poems here on GottaBook (and there are lots of others, because poetry is NOT just for April) are collected over on the right of the blog under the headline "The Poems".)


Elaine Magliaro said...


This one's cute...really cute!

This is day #11 of April--and I've got my fingers crossed that I'll be able to write/rewrite nineteen more poems to post this month at Wild Rose Reader. I was a silly old goose to follow your lead! I guess I can't duck out on this one--that would be poetic fowl play. Sheesh...I'm not even getting chicken feed for all my work.

Greg Pincus said...

Do I sense that you're bawking at the workload? I'm sure you can do it. Besides, don't you know that folks like me are gobbling up your poems?

Anonymous said...

That was fantastic, terrific, I can't even say it! Well, I actually can say it. It's... supercalifragilisticexpealidocious! Love, Halle
(P.S. from Rebecca, how perfect, we're going to catch fowl balls at Dodger Stadium tonight)

Greg Pincus said...

Thanks, Halle! And I hope y'all caught a ball for me....