Rachael.

The evil duck from Tennessee
met a Polynesian she:

"Hullo my pretty!" said the duck,
by her beauty thunderstruck.
"May we dance through time and tide?
Could you stand to be my bride?"

"A bride of Hell?!" cried Rachael,
"and married to a duck?
Has my Lord grown so bored?
Are the angels gone amok?"

The evil duck gave her the bird,
his feathered lust for now deterred.

But before he went he stole her shoe
Cause that's what evil duckies do.

What now, what now? somewhere said
the spring breeze to the ant.
Casting it to places
where the casting causes can't.