Oh, Duck

Oh duck of green and brown and yellow
Also orange and milk white,
Up and down the river
Do you often see such a lovely sight?

Upon the time
Where the sun does shine
Which you people call summer,
The banks that keep thy water in
Do flourish with such bright colour.

And what does it feel like
Ripples lapping at your feather,
And what does it sound like
The gently swaying heather?

The ripples feel gentle
But my feathers, dry they keep
And in the gently swaying heather
I often like to sleep.

Well Duck, I thank you for your time
But alas I hear the church bells chime
So now honestly I must go.
But still I thank you ever so.