The Flying Duckman (with apologies to A. P. Ryder)

Inspired by this article about a flotilla of plastic bath ducks roaming free through the Arctic Ocean

Who hath seen the Phantom Ducks,
Riding the waves in rubber flocks,
Careering o’er the lonesome main
No bath shall know their squeak again.
But how about the scholar’s plight
Who forever tracks these ducks in flight
Currents to map, for ends unknown
And reason hath it ever flown
Or to vigil strange and long
Does a sort of joy belong…
And one absurdity into another flows
As onward the strange armada goes.
But no, Hark! Quack! Quack Rubber duckies cry,
Quack; Quack, on that sea they fly;
Ah, watching here in awed delight,
Ducks, frogs and beavers ever bright
Journey on across the watery deep
To land in Canada and sleep…