Posted on Nov 20, 2011


There they waddle through the snow
Squawking away as the go
Side to side they waddle away
On a bright sunny day

Some dive up from the sea below
Propelling themselves in an easy flow
Bellies full of fish from the swim
Now they’re off to mate again

These funny little birds look like waiters
That survive cold extremes, it must be ‘taters
They dive on their bellies, natural tobogganers
Their distance from whales or they’re goners

The march of the penguins through the winter sun
Is something to behold, it can’t be fun
But they move with a beautiful grace about them
Nothing seems to matter, in single file again

They reach their twenty-mile hike in extremes
These emperors of the land and sea
Huddled up into little groups, chattering away
Little chicks they’ll have soon this day

Posted in: Poetry