The Plight of the One-Eyed Duck

The Plight of the One-Eyed Duck

He flaps like he’s drunk, wings all akimbo,

circling a pond near the village of Limbo

One eye shut tight, the other on guard

for breadcrumbs, worms, or a dog in the yard

He waddles with purpose, yet no real plan

once chased a goose, now banned by the swan

Tried flying north, ended up west

built a nest on a cow, claimed it was best

He quacks with an accent, no one can place

a hint of French mixed with disgrace

Pecks at your lunch if you blink too slow

then waddles off yelling, “Mind how you go!”

His feathers are patchy, his manners worse

he once stole a purse from a vicar’s horse

Not that he meant to, he just liked the sound

of coins that jingle when thrown on the ground

He tried romance, oh he gave it a shot

sang to a pigeon, forgot the plot

Danced on a roof, fell into a bin

then blamed the moon for not reeling him in

Some say he’s daft, others say brave

he once tried surfing a microwave

He’s legend round here, no doubt about that

The one-eyed duck in a crooked flat cap

So if you see feathers, a wink, and a smirk

and hear odd quacking down near the park

don’t be alarmed, just offer him cake

then run very fast, for everyone’s sake