With a Pitter-patter, slosh sound,
Echoing around the green farm land,
A frog, with jumpy prolonged legs, leaped with glee,
It's croaks & ribbet echoed through the trees, wild & free.

In a pond of ancient lore,
A lotus poppy queen blossom once more,
Its petals softly sunbathe as silk to touch,
Its colors bright, its beauty such.

A pond of aged stone,
A sacred lotus poppy blooms in June all alone,
Its petals pure and white as snow,
Reflecting the sun's gentle glow.

The poppy blooms in an Old pond so still,
Where a frog jumps in, with a pitter-patter's thrill,
Water's sound echoes, a slosh sound all around,
In the green farm land, where fairies are found.

A frog, with a hop and a leap,
Jumped into the water's sleep,
The sound of his entry, a pitter-patter,
Echoed loud and clear, like a chatter.

The poppy's beauty, a wondrous sight to see,
Fairies gaze in awe, with wonder and glee,
But as the frog jumps, with a playful little leap,
The fairies get scared, and their hearts start to creep.

The fairy folk, with wings so light,
Were startled by the sudden sight,
They searched the land with all their might,
For the source of the pond's delight.

The frog's splash caused quite a stir,
The fairy folk, with a flutter and a flurry,
Scanned the surface, their wings a-twitch,
Searching for the source of the splash and the switch.

But then, a prodigious snake slithered through the grass,
Its forked tongue darting in water, with a wicked pass,
The fairies trembled, their wings a-flurry,
As the snake slithe through the water's murky hurry.

They search around, with a frantic little pace,
For a safe haven, a peaceful, quiet place,
They find a snow white horse, with a gentle, calm face,
And hide behind, with a nervous, frightened pace.

In that pond, the horse did drink,
The nectar of the poppy, a sweet andlink,
The fairies watched with a grin and a wink,
As the horse drank deep, its thirst to link.

The horse, with mane so wild and free,
Drank the nectar of the poppy,
And the snake, with scales so sly and sleek,
Slithered through the water's creek.

And so, the fairies danced and played,
In the fields of green, where the poppy swayed,
Their laughter echoed, a joyful sound,
As they frolicked 'round, without a bound.

The poppy blooms on, in the Old pond's serene,
With the frog's pitter-patter, a soothing, peaceful sheen,
The fairies watch, with a sense of calm and peace,
As the lotus poppy, in the Old pond, releases.

The lotus poppy has bloomed, a sight to see,
In the old pond, where the frog jumped free,
And the fairies danced, with glee and grace,
In the fields of green, a wondrous place.

Amidst the old pond's embrace,
A lotus poppy blooms with grace,
Its petals are soft and slow,
Reflecting the water's glow.

The pond's secrets, hidden so deep,
Were revealed in the rhythm of the sleep,
The lotus poppy, a symbol of hope,
In the old pond, a story to cope.

© Aneemkp