Remember playing in the rain
when ponds became adventure lands?
All sounds and sights would amplify
as you explored your new domain.

That lurking mist near lily pad
arose like Grandma's kettle's steam.
It slithered, coiled around your legs,
but didn't scare a brave young lad.

Fat bull frogs hid not far from you,
their raucous song discordant croaks.
The red-winged blackbirds in their nests
would bellow from a close-by slough.

Though soaked right through, you ne'er complained.
You'd step into a shallow spot
and strut about as tadpoles fled,
the pond's new king till daylight waned.