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on ducks and shooting stars

Lone ducks are hard to spot at night
Floating on Lake Wateree (Windsor)
But plentiful feathers on its tail are white
And they well reflect the pale moonlight
Thus making them slightly easier to see.

Back and forth the lone duck does swim
In an unverifiable figure eight
His summoning quacks echo in the moonlight dim
As he calls his lover back to him
Though she never arrives, so patiently he'll wait.

When looking up at the star-freckled sky
Wondering what celestial beings there may be
The pale dust trail of a meteor goes by
As the lone duck's lover may quickly fly
Overhead, his solemn call her ear cannot yet reach.

And so my eyes, and yours as well
Call the heavenly sent bodies our own;
Wishes upon them made. Don't tell.
We'll depart on seeing three strikes of the bell
And leave the duck to his paddlings alone.

Then off to bed we both retire
I to mine, and you to yours
Somewhere else two minds now conspire
Of wishes wished and stars admired
While up above a meteor still soars.

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