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Classic poem

Turkeys

by John Clare

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.

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Public domain/Source

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