The Fish That Flew Poem by Ferdinand L Quintos

There was one James who looked like spy Bond
but he was poor and lived ‘lone by a pond
in a lowly hut that was roofed with thatch
and filled himself with fish he would catch.

Soon he smelled like the scaled swimmers
he was called Fish by he village jokers,
‘til one morning of him they saw no more,
life by the pond went on just like before.

Few years later, James went back to the pond
but the jokers with him now became fond,
they no longer referred to him as Fish
for now he looked so chic and stylish.

When he was gone he went to the city,
he found a job, earned money aplenty
and vowed to live no more in extreme want
to live simply but not so luxuriant.

The Fish has grown wings and became a duck,
scrounges no more for food in the muck,
more than to swim he soon learned how to fly,
for this he thanks the Lord who helped him by.

In the meantime he may just be a duck,
but on him yet smile good Lady Luck,
given more time, maybe just a little,
he will fly the skies like an eagle.