Out in the middle of the field
He used to sleep in the ivy
Until we made him a flowerpot home
After that he would barely roam
There was a pan filled with water
So he could get himself a drink
Pepe was wild but he was spoiled
A bug eating toad who never smiled
Winter came and winter went
We looked for him in the spring
He didnt come until late in summer
To do his favorite thing
Maybe he was not really Pepe
But just some other toad
We put out the pot and the water pan
To keep him from crossing the road
~Moses~
© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
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