albot george

My Wobbling Duck - Poem by albot george

As I see my little duck as she is wadding to me
It really does not matter that she's dabbing free
Because a duck out of water, can still dunk her bill
She want even mind if you make, a little spill
And as she is, now going to waddle on past
It's only then you see the nice shape of ass

She can wiggle and woggle like no other duck
And her drake just keeps on looking for the want of a (duck)
Some think it's in common
And some think it's just sweat
Its shape is like a pear drop
And salty and wet

But when the pair drops are
Falling to the floor
And the poor OLD duck can't talk
Or take anymore

That when the drake will open up the door
To let is duck leave
And say no more

Well until the next time that is


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, February 20, 2013

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