The Elves of Tweeder
2009

Deep in the tweediddy Forest of Tweeder
All the elf children play follow the leader.
Let’s join in the fun!  We’ll jump in the back.
With the very last elf, the one they call Quack.

He’s coming along without too much luck.
The reason is plain. He walks like a duck!
“Keep up!” shout the others, “Quack why are you dawdling?”
“Quack! Quack!” replies Quack.  That’s duck for “I’m waddling!”

The elf children laugh and shake their heads too.
 “Waddling,” they say, “Is not what elves do!”
They follow a tall noble elfy named Sproutem
Who seems quite persuaded the game’s all about ‘im.

Skipping through sunbeams and dancing ‘round trees,
They all follow Sproutem with grace and with ease.
Quack, waddling after, falls further behind
And tries to pretend that he doesn’t much mind.

But soon all the elves have skipped out of sight.
Their laughter has faded and fog rolls in tight.
What about waddling, Quack wonders, is yucky?
What is so wrong with an elf who is ducky?

We remain quiet ‘cause nobody knows.
The ground becomes muddy.  The fogginess grows.
Quack waddles on, splish splat through a bog.
He’s all alone now.  Except for a frog.

And where is a typical frog’s place to play?
If you said, “A pond sir,” I give you an A.
Quack squats down low with his chest in his lap.
He sticks out his elbows.  Get ready to flap!

He flaps and he waddles through mud, muck and dredge.
Waddling at last to a pond’s very edge.
“Quack! Quack!” bellows Quack.  That’s duck for “Geronimo!”
And nothing rhymes with it, so just say “Schmeronimo.”

He dives in that pond and paddles his best
Quacking and splashing and puffing his chest.
But quacking alone just isn’t the same
As quacking with others, if Quack is your name.

He misses tall Sproutem and all those who follow.
“Hope they come back,” he says with a swallow.
He sinks to his ears in that pond by himself,
Wishing he wasn’t the only duck elf.

Then, a familiar voice not far away!
“Keep quacking!  Keep splashing!  We’re coming to play!”
The children with tall noble Sproutem draw near.
“Quack!  Quack!” replies Quack.  That’s duck for “I’m here!’”

That’s when it happens.  The best thing of all.
The thing that makes Quack feel like he’s seven feet tall.
All the elves burst from the fog in a line.
 “I’m sorry,” says Sproutem.  “The fault is all mine.”

“I got us all lost in the fog with this game,
But when we heard quacking and splashing we came.
We followed your sounds till we found our way back.”
“Quack! Quack!” replies Quack.  That’s duck for “Quack! Quack!”

“Let’s make Quack the leader!” all the elves chorus.
The sound of their quacking soon rings through the forest.
The fog rolls away and the sun smiles brightly,
For waddling elves quacking is really quite sightly.

And though Quack is happy his friends do not doubt him,
He knows and we know the game’s not about ‘im.
It’s about waddling through fair and foul weather,
“Quack! Quack!” chimes in Quack.  That’s duck for “Together!”