That's Wrong

The scuffling duo sparred in the park Their screams and shouts so very marked A bag was clutched in the woman's hand A man had grabbed it while he harangued "Let go!" He shrilled and tugged it more "Tis mine, not yours!" The woman swore The strap tore his hand, he released his grip The woman fell back in one mighty trip Another spoke out with voice strong and stern "It belongs to her, so it must be returned." The other placated the poor fallen lass He showed her the bag with gold coloured hasp The woman leapt up, grabbed the bag and was gone "It belonged to my wife." Said the man all forlorn "Oh I'm sorry." Said the other, watching her go Laughing and jeering, bag firmly in tow She headed toward a blue, murky pond The path, alongside, was slippy beyond Now her footing was lost to the slime and the mud As she sallied forth into furthermore sludge The man strode swiftly to view her demise With a duck on her head holding its prize The little red bag was firm in its beak So the man took it back and the duck said quack quack.