Froggy the Frog

Can one miss a toad's croak?

Apparently yes!

That old familiar sound.

A sense of comfort perhaps.

Happy is the toad

jumping around muddy ponds.

Scarce a worry.

Never mind the sticky soil

sticking to its legs.

Happy is he when he sees himself

in the tranquil lake.

Forever jumping in joy.

Baring his soul without fear.

No pretensions.

No need for perfection. 

Happy by himself.

Such a merry little thing.

Such a jocular company.

Yes, I miss that old croak.

That funny face.

That chorus at night.

Those days when the frogs' croaks

in the darkness of the night 

were my sweet lullaby.