Valentines Day always found me quiver and bowed over
Ring with no feather in my cap only envy
at handsome man drakes with bucks,
who could bank on "hot chicks" willingly
aligned in arrow emitting clucks
fluffing their respective tail feathers amidst
loud squawking out quacking
establishing pecking order like ducks,
or any other foxy fowl billetted
within walled din noisy hen house
(yepper blame pandemonium on the fox)
preening, each be solder self flux
sing wings and waddling, flirting, casting...
webbed wide good lucks
