He Cooked My Goose

He Cooked My Goose

Scurrilous cad is written on my face
And off I go seeking a solitary place
To deal with this splenetic character I see each day
As I rise from sleep from where I lay
I come to exorcise it from my soul
Amid the lakes was the old swimming hole
A station that I suppose
I rest in quiet solemn repose
Then as I close my eyes in quiet retrospection
There comes a flurry of wings, a noisy conflagration
Descending upon my quite scene
Destroying my perfect scheme
Then I discover I am resting
In the quiet place of nesting
Of geese from the north
Rapidly they come forth
I repel their shenanigans one by one
Grabbing their necks I fling them in the pond
For hours I wrestle till I lie spent upon the dock
Then one lone goose separating from his flock
Comes to stand erect before me
Looking into my eyes quite proudly
And before he turns his back
Shouts once again, AFLAC!


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Words required to be used by "Para/Poem Challenge "Open""  in this poem:
         Shenanigans...Solomn...Station...Splenetic...Solitary...Scurrilous