The eerie night murmuring
the residual song of the
bygone rain,
a phalanx of frogs
wallowing in the
nocturnal puddles nearby
profane the quietitude
with sounds of dissent!

Criticising the sermon
of rain now echoing
in the drops dropping
from the leaves and
window panes,
the frogs keep on
discussing among themselves,
breaking my sleep into
pieces of sleeplessness!

The death of sun, moon and
stars casting a gloom
over the wet night,
the frogs invade my sleep,
leaping and leaping in joy!

When the dawn comes and
removes the dark veil and
retrieves the earth
from the night and the frogs,
I start going out,
after the morning routine.

Yet, from home to the workplace,
everywhere the frogs
confront me, leaping,
criticising and profaning.