ODE TO A TOAD

ODE TO A TOAD

He sits by himself near the road, he is not handsome as you can see and anything that bites him will suffer much misery.
He loves his humble abode, when he sees a female of his choice he will bellow to her with a loud voice for he has much competition you see. He wants to grab her for his own but sometimes she barks; get off my back and leave me alone!

You can hear his little ones sing in the Spring, a sweet melody in chirping harmony.
If you see me, don’t try to give me a hug but I will flip out my tongue for a nice fat bug.

As I sit on that old log I see my pretty friend the frog, shiny green is she, not even a look towards me, besides how often is the story told that to touch me anywhere, a wart would soon appear.

My pond is drying up, I must go deep and find a place to sleep, into the mud I go. The months go by, the Snow covers where I lie, I awake to hear a pitter-pat and I think; what is that? It is the early Spring rain, a sweet refrain that fills my pond again and I am reborn anew, a new song I will sing for you.

Author Ken
May 4, 2017