The toad 's, p'haps, the oldest
of forms the boldest
and the coldest.

It was with the Word
Then by Mrs Adam heard
as the Sibyl voice of the rebel herd.

It hops, ftops; and with a stare
from its bulbous eyes like the hippo's
It flies through the air
quite close to your nose.

With two little humps on back
it leaps and jumps
from the wall for a spring-board
- the sickly looking toad.

Thought the skin is pale
it is quite hale
(I can't cut off the other half ' healthy'
nor its rhyme about its movement stealthy.

Now it's seen on the 'bul-bul'*
now on the cup that's brimful
now under the table or a stool
with a leg stretched like a carpenter' rule.

You blink and slink
and look back for a stick
or a long broom
while it plays in your room
hide and seek.

You sweat and fume
and your search resume
all in a hush
and out you rush.

Now it's seen in the green
bush, and seems to be gone
but will be back in the morn
from somewhere in the shrub
shooting up near the tub
and your life seems its hub.

It lets a jet of water
and forward moves faster
proving the law of Newton's
about actions and reactions.

Ah, living with the toad
You never get bored!

* bul-bul-tara  is a stringed musical instrument.