Eagle’s Fibs and Maple's Honk Back

Follow Maple the Goose as she calmly counters wild claims with truth, tea, and tidy ledgers. While Eagle shouts fibs to stir up the flock, it’s quiet facts and fair trade that win back the forest’s trust.

By Ross Boulton

(c) 2025

In the north of the woods, past the frostberry vines,

Where the treetops wore snowflakes like sparkly spines,

Lived Maple the Goose with a mind sharp and bright—

She flew fair, she flew true, and she flew in the light.

She traded her truffles for sprucewood and cheese,

And glided through treaties with calm, easy ease.

She welcomed all creatures with biscuits and tea,

And kept tidy ledgers from sea up to sea.

But down in the south, where the canyon winds scream,

Lived Eagle the Loud with a gold-plated dream.

He fluffed up his feathers and practiced his grin—

And shouted out stories he’d stitched from thin skin.

“One thing is certain!” he cried with a flap,

“That Maple’s been playing a sneaky-winged trap!

She gobbles our goods and she blocks all our brie—

Why, that goose trades unfairly with you and with me!”

The sparrows went silent. The chipmunks looked grim.

Could dear Maple Goose be unfair... or just dim?

From high in the oaks came a flick of brown tail—

Whimsy the Squirrel had questions to nail.

“This smells like a story all puffed full of air,”

He muttered while munching a nut with a stare.“

The numbers don’t match, and the facts feel all bent—

I’ll climb down this tale till I know what he meant!”

Now Maple stood tall, with a calm honking note,

Unrolling a scroll from beneath her thick coat.

"My books are all balanced,” she said with a smile,

“Would you care for a cookie and truth for a while?”

“You sell more than buy, it’s a surplus you’ve got!

So all this ‘bad trading’? It’s really just... not.

And yes, we have rules about cheese and cream pies—

But you helped to write them, so why act surprised?”

Jay-Dee the Parrot-Crow cawed from a bough,

“I think there are taxes... on pudding? Or... cow?”

He tripped on his facts, then flopped to the floor—

Still quoting old Eagle, but less than before.

The Buzzards just circled and mumbled a tune:

“We’ll comment on this... perhaps late next June.

We’re watching it closely. We’ll draft a reply.

Or maybe we won’t. We might let it fly.”

Then Eagle cried louder, “They’re sneaking in snow!

With syrup! And sleds! From a frosty depot!”

The critters all blinked. A frog gave a croak:

I think that’s not true. And a little... bespoke.”

Maple just sighed and unfurled a big chart,

With pie-shaped pie graphs (a visual art!).

The beavers all gathered, the foxes drew near—

And slowly, the fibs began to disappear.

With poise in her feathers and facts by her side,

Maple the Goose did not fuss, fight, or hide.

“Truth doesn’t shout,” she said with soft grace,

“It stands where it is—and it stays in one place.”

🌟 The Moral 🌟

When feathers get ruffled by rumors that fly,

And loud birds declare what they wish would apply,

Remember: real facts don’t need thunder or show—

They quietly prove what the wise already know.

So next time a leader shouts lies with a squawk,

Just honk like a Goose—and calmly, just talk.

🍁 “I trade fair, I fly fair,” said Maple with pride.

🪶 “I thought he meant something else!” Jay-Dee replied.

🦅 “Only I can fix it!” still cried Eagle, bold—

But the forest now listens... with minds that won't fold.