Turkeys

The turkeys wade the close to catch the bees

In the old border full of maple trees

And often lay away and breed and come

And bring a brood of chelping chickens home.

The turkey gobbles loud and drops his rag

And struts and sprunts his tail and then lets drag

His wing on ground and makes a huzzing noise,

Nauntles at passer-bye and drives the boys

And bounces up and flies at passer-bye.

The old dog snaps and grins nor ventures nigh.

He gobbles loud and drives the boys from play;

They throw their sticks and kick and run away.