I bet it isn’t easy to find slippers that fit a duck.
It isn’t easy being a duck on a winter morning,
The frost wakes you up without any hint of warning.
It creeps in your duck windows’ duck corners,
Making shapes of bears and big horners.
You can hear the crackle as it advances,
It’s counting the Frost Lord’s cold finances.
There’s no choice for a diligent duck,
You have to get up, it takes pluck.
Pull the duck pull-over over your beak:
The world becomes one third less bleak.
Be more civilized than Donald: wear pants,
The ones made by spiders or the ones made by ants.
Eeek! You forgot to cover your webby feet,
The cold floor stings as your feet and it meet.
Grab the duck slippers comfy and warm,
Put them on to be safe from harm.
Now you’re ready to face your duck day,
Duck Tales await, or at least they may.