Wendy the trendy penguin
sat sadly in the snow;
for penguins live all lonely
where nothing else will go.
She didn’t want to waddle
on floes of snow and ice,
and dreams of northern waters
continued to entice.
But penguins must be trendy;
they live in flocks for heat,
and even if you don’t like snow,
there’s plenty of friends to meet.
Well, penguins all look splendid,
for everyone’s well-dressed;
clean beaks and neat tuxedos
keep other birds impressed.
They waddle and they slither,
but under water fly,
where fish and krill and squid must fear
a penguin going by.
Yet waiting in the ocean
are leopard seals and orca
that love to eat a black and white
wild widdle-waddle walker.
So Wendy dreams of penguins –
what kind she’d like to be –
all summer long she sings a song
to chicks beside the sea:
“I could be an Emperor, as tall as tall,
and dive to the bottom for a fish;
or live like a King through the long winter squall,
on a temperate isle, just as warm as I’d wish!
I could be Adélie with a neat little bill,
oh, Ross Island is warm to the toes!
I could make a nest of nice little stones,
and have brown eggs or green, as I chose.
Or I could get a Chinstrap, and live in the North,
and leave all my chicks with their chums;
I could live on islands, or float on a floe,
with some other independent-minded mums.
I could be a Gentoo with a bonnet in my plumage,
and swim like a shot through the sea;
but they’re frightened, and they’re fractious,
and for just a flipping stone
Gentoo girls make moan; no, that’s not for me!
I could come a cropper as a renegade Rockhopper,
for they’re getting dreadfully rare;
and their ugly plumes get all spoiled in the spume,
it’s enough to make you stare!
I would love to be a florist; Crested Penguins in the forest
of New Zealand, that nest by the wave,
live on octopus and squid; ugh! Well, well! I never did!
If it wasn’t for the diet, that’s the life I’d crave.
And the Snares are just the same,
with an island for their name,
and nowhere to go for a change;
I would love to live on krill, and they’ve such a pretty bill,
but they’ve really got no numbers, or range!
I could be a Macaroni – well at least I’d not be lonely –
and it’s common to have feathers in your cap;
but they lay a brace of eggs,
and keep one between their legs,
then they eat the other up, every scrap!
Wendy the trendy penguin
whiled time away in dreams;
she would always stay the same,
in spite of all her schemes.
Penguins live in massive flocks,
and that’s where they belong;
but whenever life is boring,
they can sing our Wendy’s song.