Froggy did a wooing go.

Bonking frogette, nice and slow.

Soon the pond was full of spawn.

A million tadpoles then were born.

The fish looked on, all goggle eyed.

A feast was all that they espied.

They chased the tiny taddy shoals

and swallowed their black wriggly goals.

Fat, sleek and broadly smiling fish

rejoice in their amphibidish.

But poor old froggy and frogette

see their babies croak, and fret.

Frog eyed sadness and fishy greed,

are shortened by a heron's need.

The sleek, majestic, massive bird,

nicks goldy fish without a word.

Nature's dreadful balance done

the pond reflects the setting sun.

All that live are nicely fed,

and settle gently down to bed.