By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny @ Twitter
In the middle of the small pond
A white duck swan all alone
Wishing for companionship
One day a small black wood duck
Stopped by for a drink of water
Grew close to the duck, stayed a while
Weeks went by until the black duck
Felt the need to travel on, fly
Come fly with me, white duck!
He flew all around the white duck
To get it to fly ... the white duck tried
To no avail ... sadly the duck dropped its head
I can't fly with you, I wish to go
I'm not the flying kind of duck
I can only fly short distances, not high from the ground
The black duck knew he had to go
He had to leave his beautiful friend behind
With grief in his heart ... he flew off
Promising to come back one day
The white duck swan sadly
On the pond until one day
The black duck flew down from the sky
Landed on the water just beside
The white duck as it looked up in surprise
I'm back, white duck
I'll stay long as I can ... I don't want to go
Leave you behind ever again
Everywhere the white duck went
The black duck followed like a shadow
Always by its side
Where you saw one, there was the other
As close as two ducks could be
White duck, black duck were in love
They swan on the pond each day
Happily ever after
Contented as only ducks can be!
Note by this Author:
Skip and I watch a pond we pass by often. A white duck lives on the pond ... and for a time a black duck came ... always sitting close to the white duck like its shadow. It was smaller than the white duck.
We were so happy the white duck had companionship. Skip and I didn't have to worry the white duck was lonely anymore until .... one day not long ago ... the black duck was gone.
Now, the white duck swims all alone in the little pond. We see birds stop by to visit, and an egret or two. We worry about the white duck. We can't help but, to.
We wish the black duck would come back. I thought it would stay there always ... Skip said that both ducks ... weren't the same kind of ducks. The black duck could fly great distances ... the white duck can't.
I don't know the differences between one duck or the other ... my prayer is that the black duck will come back ... or someone get a companion for the sweet, white duck.
Poem/photo ... both owned, written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee