In a house by the hill, a homeowner’s dismay,
A frog’s croak disturbed night and day.
Through rooms and corridors, the sound did parade,
A ceaseless chorus that would not fade.
With lantern in hand, the homeowner sought,
To find the frog that his peace had brought.
In a corner dark, with a startled leap,
The frog was caught, no more to sleep.
Over the wall, the frog took flight,
Into the darkness, out of sight.
A splash, a ripple, in waters deep,
Into the stream, where it did creep.
Amidst the current’s gentle flow,
The frog found solace, a place to grow.
With lily pads as stepping stones,
It made the stream its very own.
In the moonlit night, a croak replied,
A maiden frog by the water’s side.
Their voices merged in harmonious blend,
A love story that would never end.
With each passing day, their family grew,
A chorus of frogs, old and new.
Their songs of joy filled the air,
A symphony beyond compare.
So, remember, when life seems grim,
And fate throws you out on a whim,
In the waters of change, you may belong,
Embraced by the melody of the “Water Song.”