that wobble with my boots,
No earthly dangers could defeat
the fierceness of his poops.
And though his down be tinged with gold
don't brand him yellow-belly.
This duckling's jumped an inch, all told
to get into the jelly.
A mountain-duck by birth, he deigned
to live amongst the valley
and eat entireties of worms, and
all crumbs he can rally.
And I ken it's through these very feats
that Thursday's 56g
when added to his tonne of treats
is Monday's 71.3
His awesome mass is multiplied
by awesome wealth; it's testified
he vanquished all the pond's paltroons
and sleeps now 'top his won dubloons.
Yea, the price of valor's a lofty nap,
quack quack quack quack quack quack quack.
***
Also, aside from inspiring Vogon poetry, baby ducks also make excellent pets for people attempting to adjust their daily schedules earlier.
That's pretty cute
I'm still trying to get a good shot of him yawning (yes!).
Nice words.
Ghosts of Gilbert and Sullivan, methinks.
Well feather me flattered, Mr. Flutney!
I can't believe you missed out on "ducats". Wut dubloons!