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.