It disthney bother me, that “Donald” wasth the firsth
Neither am I bugged by “Bunny”, quacking yolksth that teasthe
My plumage though dimorphic, enhancesth me from birth
Black asth night with orange bill and feet that sthplay the kneesthe

They could have drawn a different life, from lead and paper sheetsth
I could have been a Mallard Duck, unto the Manor born
Unlike old “Foghorn Leghorn” ah-sthay, ah-sthay, doth pleadsth
Or ”Porky Pig’s” new sthidekick, a part I hath forsthworn

A Pekin Duck with mandible extended, sthure to hinder sthpeech
A vigilante lunatic, who Looney Tunesth doth play
Desthpicable in every way, no mannersth left to sthketch or teach
“Duck Dodgers” in a future life, when Warner hath their day

A raft of Ducksth now follow and hang on every listhp
Thisth sthupersthtar of sthcreen and film, in fun no longer pokesth
At friend nor foe of bygone age, whosth wordsth were stharp and cristhp
Sthakespearean in versthe and rhyme, beg Bard
for “Now that’sth all dear Folksth”