There must be rain and lots of rain,
Enough to fill the river Seine.
Till Mrs Frog and Mr Toad,
Will choose to risk the night again.

See, Mrs frog is kind of queer,
She sits the same spot most of year.
Amphibifun! An avid leaper,
But home again when daylight near.

Then Mr toad, a grumpy winner,
An eagle eyed reptilian sinner.
He hates the rain and lost a leg,
When something fancied him for dinner!.

But on that rare and lucky night,
When circumstance and weather right.
These loyal suitors meet at last,
As Cupid’s spell is at its height.

Five years have past, they’re still together,
Meeting frequent, sometimes never.
But neither gives up on the other,
Not storm, not tide, nor any weather.

What loyalty? What love? What deeds?,
Take place amongst those silent reeds.
Frog and Toad; he hates the rain!
But love and patience still exceeds.

The toad is looking

for water, its moist **** smells --


like warm silage grass.

Fairytales and picture books
Don't tell the whole truth.
Sometimes,
Toads are just toads.
They don't always become your prince
After you kiss them.

It's a funny idea, really -
The notion of finding love
In a murky pond.
Lonely bogs have lonely frogs,
I suppose.
Did you have any doubts
As you traced the surface of the water
With a fingertip?
When you took him in your palms,
Did you not have second thoughts?

It takes a mental blindfold,
Opaque enough to block out reason,
To hold a toad so dear.
He might be charming at first,
If for nothing else than for the idea
Of what the two of you could be.
But soon enough,
The emptiness will settle in.
He won't call you pretty,
Or hold you close.
He'll leave a little trail of slime
Wherever he goes.


And at the end of the day,
I'm left wondering...
Why the **** did I kiss a toad?

"A Country Sunset"

Dogs bound along the road.
Hogs squeal their hunger. A toad
Flees to safety from tabby's chase.
Trees sway in the wind. Sol's face
Slowly hides behind the corn
Sleepily, till dawn reborn.