In the stillness of a midnight pond,
Where moonlit whispers waltz across gentle waters,
A froge lounges upon a solitary lily pad,
Dreaming of dragonflies and starlit skies.
With legs poised like the finest ballerina,
It leaps into the cool embrace of dawn,
Ripples, like fleeting moments, dance away,
Each one a simple symphony of nature's design.
Oh, the stories these ripples could tell!
Of ancient croaks echoing in the mist,
Of the silent secrets whispered to moonbeams,
By this small creature of grace and stillness.