Today I bought a Bamboo Duck
Well three, to be precise
I bought them at a roadside stall
They were just, well….kinda nice
The stall was full of carvings
sorta folkys rural things
mushrooms carved in sycamore
Moths on Beech wood, wings
Yet the Ducks they really drew me
They seemed to be alive
The colour and the markings
Their posture strong and lithe
They’re made from bamboo roots
He said, the guy who ran the stall
when they uproot a bamboo plant
These people use it all
They take the root and clean them
read the story in the shape
the size and contours telling of
the mood the duck will take
The ducks come from Indonesia
From a village workshop there
to a village green in England
where another carver sells his wears
And the beauty of this story
when all is said and done
Is that no one gets exploited
no environmental damage done
Because bamboo grows rapidly
the resource can be sustained
and because Fair Trade is organised
an Indonesian village is maintained
The guy who ran the roadside stall
played a part in this as well
He only used recycled wood
In the things he carved to sell
So now I’ve heard the story of
how they came to be
The ducks I fell in love with
Mean that much more to me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
AAAaaaahhhhhhh! ! ! ! That's a lovely story Bill, and they'd mean that much more to me after hearing that. Lovely write again. Love Ernestine XXX