Photo by Andreas Schantl on Unsplash

At first they sported a playful fountain,
which bubbled and sent drops of spray
through the golden heat of summer days.
Their smiling faces in verdigris fit wonderfully
with the splash of pink impatients
amid the blue of river rocks
beside the little pond.

By the second year the motor no longer worked
but the frogs kept their stance and their
cheeky smiles, and their metal showed
a certain elegance when rain drops shone
them and the river rock.

On this their third year I glanced at them
as I walked by, and apologized for their
sad state, knowing they deserved some
color planted in their empty, non-fountained
metal bowl.  But summer passed with other
gardens calling my attention.

Lo, the frogs found a way to gain again
my admiration.  Snow fell and
they became adorned.  Today I look often
as I pass the window.  Their bowl is full of
a white arrangement, and their heads are
Generously crowned with snow.
…kiss

January 2012