Toad

A toad is not a stone.  He has a brain.

He can annoy more than a marble rock

That falls across a path.  We feel a strain

When he with slowness causes us a block

From what we want in gardens or where we

Would start to plant a pine.  He takes too long

Galumphing from the space where we want tree

Or bamboo stand, solidity too strong

In him.  We cannot kick out since our mind

Knows well that he is like us, has his soul,

A little four-legged man.  We are not blind

To cosmic law.  The two of are whole.

  He irritates with broadness of his face

    And partically because of lack of grace.

© Phillip Whidden