In the morning’s gentle haze, they roam,
Beneath the sky, so vast, their home.
With feathers gleaming in the dawn,
They float serenely on the pond.

Quacks echo softly through the air,
A melody of nature, pure and rare.
They glide with grace, in rhythmic dance,
Lost in their world, a deep trance.

With beaks that dip and wings that spread,
They weave a path where dreams are led.
Through rippling waters, side by side,
They journey forth with gentle pride.

As sunbeams kiss their backs so light,
They shimmer softly, a peaceful sight.
In the stillness of the waking day,
The ducks, in quiet beauty, play.