Ditches full of frogs

Strolling down the lane
Bread and cheese and hawthorn
pools splashing in the road
drying in the sun and wind.
ditches full of frogs
orgies in blissful chorus.
I watch, join in their delight,
spring is here, I feel it in my groin.
A happy scene  should I share the joy ?

The walking stick lying in the ditch
brought me down to earth
had it achieved its sole ambition. . . .
the dream of every walking-stick
to help support frail legs;
then, job well done, cast back
into the hedge from whence it came,
watch, rest and wait another
take them down the lane
until they too walk strong?