It's always a mistake to enumerate your ducklings;
So many of their mickles fail to make it to a muckling.
When their mum swims by with a feathery flotilla
Of little bobbing humbugs, remember that they've still a
Sticky time ahead of them as canapés and finger food
For herons, crows, and foxes- indeed, anything that's in the mood.
Could you swear you just saw something where the local pike just made a wave?
Don't think too much about it, now; a duckling simply won't be saved.