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My pet duck Stanley, boy what a pet is he They say in a cave his echo, won’t come back to me Now Stanley is not just a duck, he is special through and through I am sure he could raise an echo not just for me, but you too… The thing about ducks is, there is a myth That in an echo chambers there not a whiff Not a sight or sound of a duck's quack When it quacks its loudest one, it doesn’t echo back… Stanley, we taught him from a duckling how to swim, He had a yellow string tied on to him There were Pikes with big teeth in the place where he swam We wanted to make him as safe as we can. He learnt to quack whenever he was afraid Because that’s what ducks do, that’s how they’re made He is such a clever duck I can assure you of that And I am sure if he quacks in a cave, his echo will come back. Off to Wookey cave one day went we Stanley sat quietly upon my knee Into the dark and cavernous cave Stanley waddled in, oh so clever, oh so brave… To test the myth of a ducks quack having no echo We needed Stanley to quack, and quack just so… He turned and looked when I made the request As if to say you are nuts - and that is at best… Stanley would not, now, quack for me He waddled on in and sat down so comfortably I cajoled, I pleaded, I begged on my knees Just one quack for me Stanley only one… please. He tucked his head under his wing oh so white I thought perhaps if I gave him a fright I started to talk of duck fried and crispy Or orange sauce pouring and lips smacking quickly… Stanley turned and looked at me with disgust He got up and waddled off, shaking the dust I have never seen Stanley from that day to this He never returned like the echoing myth… If you see a white duck with a yellow string on his leg Tell him to return home, unlike his echo… I said I promise I will never try to test the quacking myth any more I just want to see Stanley walk back through my door. © ~GG~30/10/2102
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