By Phyllis Beebe
In the far back garden by the tiny creek
Lives a little brown toad, quiet and meek.
Each day at sundown he sings his song
Greeting the stars as they come along.
flies the grey owl
Sharp eyes looking for mice on the prowl.
Quickly and steeply he dives to the ground.
Tomorrow there is one less mouse to be found.
The while stiped skunk
With mincing step
Parades the lawns and streets.
No one asks him
Where he's been.
They know when his perfume greets.
Goes the cricket
Scuttling through the grass,
A forest tall
With flowers and all,
Trembles as he goes past.