Where Have the Frogs Gone?

Those little creatures

With glue on their skin

Colour of the mint leaf before summers Goblin eyes, staring, meditating,

Wisely looking on the world.

Tirelessly squatting, waiting;

Webbed feet ready to spring,

Blithe bubbles of happiness Creating ripples in the puddles.

Where have the frogs gone?

Spring-soldiers; awake from slumber,

On the alarm of Earth’s eternal spin Uncovering, unmasking, exhaling.

Polliwogs metamorphose-all things change

Croaking for the flowers to blossom;

Croaking for the seedlings to sprout.

Croaking to welcome the showers.

Where have the frogs gone?

Mysterious messengers of Nature

Playful splashes of colour

Founts of tickling mischief-Filling their own busyness,

The little ones tentatively hopping,

The old- leaping slow and cautious.

Gone to the margins of lands;

Like pedestrians from the roads.

No complaint, no defiance, no noise.

Where have the frogs gone?