My friend Cary mentioned on her blog that her Grandson Will is studying Kiwis. This made me think of a poem my Grandmother Susan Dassler wrote many years ago about Kiwis.
Why are we labelled Kiwis?
Where can we place the blame?
What charms has this unlovely bird,
That we should take his name?
He cannot fly with ne’er a wing,
He has no voice – he cannot sing
No song of joy, no liquid note
Has ever issued from his throat.
He’s down-to-earth, and drab and shy’
And he ne’er looks up towards the sky
He has no tail to flirt and spread,
To lure a mate into his bed.
He shuns the day, and while it’s light,
He sulks and lurks beneath the scrub,
But digs and delves throughout the night,
And he thinks of nothing but his grub!
He’s really neither smart or nimble-
Why do we make him our symbol?
Upon one point you’ll all agree-
He is UNIQUE and so are we!
by Susan Dassler
Grandma Dassler was a prolific writer. In hard times she wrote to earn money. The 2s 6d or 5 shillings she might be paid for a poem or a small story that was published helped to keep things going. I believe she wrote this poem for a Great Grand Daughter who was going overseas as an American exchange Student.
Thanks for popping by.
PS If you would like to use this poem please acknowledge where you got it from – and Grandma D of course!