When I was in High School (how many years ago we will not discuss here), we were assigned a Senior Project for English class.  This was a major portion of our grade for the last semester.  I chose to do an anthology.  One of the poems I included was one entitled “Our Mr. Toad”.

Well, last night we had a visitor on our back door that reminded me of that poem and that assignment.  I still have that anthology, so I pulled out that poem and I will share with you and then the photo of our visitor. Granted, our visitor was a frog and not a toad but they are easily mistaken by people, so we will just pretend.  Okay?

Our Mr. Toad

Our Mr. Toad

has a nice abode

Under the first front step.

When it rains he’s cool

In a secret pool

Where the water goes

drip

drop

drip.

Our Mr. Toad

Will avoid the road:

He’s a private-cellar man.

And it’s not much fun

In the broiling sun

When you have a good

ten

tone

tan.

Our Mr. Toad

Has a kind of code

That tells him the coast is clear.

Then away he’ll hop

With a stop, stop, stop

When the duck draws

nigh

no

near.

David Mc Cord

the frog is on the divider of the window pane.