Ballad of the Burly Toads In the heart of the shadowed wood, Where ancient oaks have long stood, Dwell the toads, both stout and wise, Guardians under the starlit skies. With warty skins, like armored knights, They roam the woods in the moon’s soft lights. A chorus deep, they proudly sing, In the night, their…
Green Crooner of the Creek In a tranquil creek, where whispers speak, A green crooner, his song unique. Amidst lily pads, he finds his stage, Under moon’s glow, he comes of age. With a voice so bold, in the quiet night, He sings of stars and soft moonlight. Each note he croons, a ripple makes,…
In a world where whispers of leaves tell tales, A little frog embarked on trails. Through Spring’s embrace, vibrant and new, Where flowers danced and the grasses grew. Summer came with a golden glow, Warm breezes taught the streams to flow. The frog leaped high under sun’s bright eye, Chasing dragonflies across the sky. Autumn…
In the golden reeds, where whispers weave, A lone frog leaps at the close of day. Emerald hues beneath an amber eve, Where shadows dance and water sprites play. Through lily pads and ripples round, It hops with a heart so free, Chasing sunsets, where dreams are found, In the twilight’s melody. Each leap a…
In a realm where whispers dance with the breeze, A frog croaked tales beneath the emerald trees. Its eyes, like glistening orbs, caught the light, Reflecting dreams of day, secrets of night. Along came a dragonfly, wings ablaze, Gliding over waters, a living haze. With a ballet of iridescence and grace, It hovered above, in…
In the heart of the emerald marshland’s embrace, Where the lily pads float and the dragonflies race, There lies a realm, under moon’s silvery glow, Where the night comes alive with a croaking crescendo. A symphony of frogs, in their grand aquatic hall, Leap and serenade ‘neath the twilight’s soft call. Each ribbit a note,…
In the glistening dawn of the waking wetlands, A solitary frog in anticipation stands. With a sky so heavy, it promises to grant The rhythmic wishes of the frog’s rain dance. He hops and leaps in an emerald trance, Circles rippling where his feet chance. Each movement a plea to the skies above, For a…
In the realm of ink and verse, Lies a frog unique and terse, Bound to pages, crisp and old, In a tale that’s often told. Never leaped in ponds or streams, Only in the poets’ dreams, Hopping through stanzas, line by line, In a world that’s purely thine. Rain has never kissed its skin, Nor…
