The Dog That Hunts Ducks

A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
A bird in the mouth is worth a dozen out of reach.

Sweet duck, how long must I go on paddling
In striving to bring you back to shore?
Your evasive tactics I find quite maddening
Preventing your addition to my trophy's store.

My quarry I see so close at hand,
And oft am present at her side;
My breath sometimes upon her blows;
As she by my mouth doth glide;

Surely one more plunge and she'll be mine
So I pant, I blow, I snatch,
I grasp, I stretch, and oft it seems,
I'll have her as my catch.

But woe is me, she ducks and dives,
How comes this so to pass?
For when I thought I finally had her, she flies
And then furthest away from her I was!

So near, yet so far.