Non-plastic, wooden duck, from where have you come? Where you carved during the Trojan War or did you travel with a child during adventus Saxonum?
You seem simple, yet noble and full of charm. Have you ever comforted those endearing indigence by silent-quacking for more hope and less harm?
When you are hungry for bread crumbs more so than an oil rub, can you turn into a real duck for an obreptitious skip over to the pantry and back–all without a flub?
Worldly matters can oft leave the soul sullen and the mood mumping, too. But, your upward-pointed bill, eyes inspirited, and sure-footed stance incite desires both of and for others to be best, as well, at all that they do. ; )