Ducks don't bite the hand that feeds [Ducky]

[Performance Center Newbies]

In a quiet pond where lilies float,
Lived a duck in a feathered coat,
With eyes as bright as morning dew,
And a heart steadfast, loyal, and true.

The duck would swim at dawn's first light,
Guarding the pond both day and night,
Through rain and storm, through sun and shade,
In every moment, undismayed.

His master, gentle, kind, and wise,
Would call his name under clear blue skies,
And with a quack, the duck would come,
Eager, happy, never glum.

Together they walked the meadow green,
A bond like theirs was rarely seen,
For in each step, in each kind glance,
There blossomed trust, there bloomed romance.

The duck would follow close behind,
With loyalty and love combined,
A friend, protector, through and through,
A master's heart, forever true.

And when the stars adorned the sky,
Beneath their glow, the duck would lie,
Beside his master, dreaming sweet,
In a bond that time could not deplete.

For in this world, so vast, so wide,
A duck's true heart would never hide,
A loyal soul, a steadfast friend,
Together till the very end.