As into the garden Elizabeth ran
Pursued by the just indignation of Ann
She trod on an object that lay in her road
She trod on an object that looked like a toad

It looked like a toad, and it looked so because
A toad was the actual object it was
And after supporting Elizabeth's tread
It looked like a toad that was visibly dead

Elizabeth, leaving her footprint behind,
Continued her flight on the wings of the wind
As Ann in her anger was heard to arrive
At the toad that was not any longer alive

Was heard to arrive, for the firmament rang
With the sound of a scream and the noise of a bang
As her breath on the breezes she broadly bestowed
And fainted away on Elizabeth's toad

Elizabeth, saved by the sole of her boot
Escaped her insensible sister's pursuit
And if ever hereafter she irritates Ann
She will tread on a toad if she possibly can

Latenight Toad
(an original poem for metachat)
___________________________________

All alone as folks were sleeping,
into the garden I was creeping...
when along the hedge where moonlight glowed
I happened upon a latenight toad.

"Wherefore do you wander, Mister Warty?
Hopping toward some midnight party?
What lures such a morsel, round and fat
to tempt the owl, and fox and cat?"

"I don't condescend to matters so plebeian!"
spake this odd, disdainful amphibian.
"Where I dally deep into the night
offers much more and less of a fright."

He sniffed a bit, then began to croak
and these are the very words he spoke:
"You too would find a fear of felines funny,
had you ever encountered a vampire zombie bunny."

"In fact, if you've even a semblance of wit,
immediately these pointless queries you'll quit.
Can't you hear the sound of distant thumping?
Don't you spy those shadowy shapes a-jumping?"

Only then did I see that as Mister Toad had talked
along with him on his way I had walked,
and around me now, all was foreign...
A strangelike place - a den, a warren!

And of a sudden I saw that the moon that glowed
was verily the glimmer of a tube cathode.
And where I saw nightblooms quietly growing,
in fact were characters, sans serif, flowing.

Instead of fence and gate and hedge
I saw pages and pages of post and thread,
and as the terrible truth slowly dawned
the latenight toad just smiled and yawned.

"I see you've ceased the prattle, you tiresome brat,
to shiver and stumble, and ask where am I at!?"
And the latenight toad just chuckled, then spat:
"Why, you've found your way to the dread MetaChat!"

"And for all of the night, and the nights everafter,
you'll find yourself here, imprisoned by chatter.
As dawn rises, and you look toward your bed,
you'll find yourself here, just as I've said."

******

And when next all alone into the night I was creeping,
I found myself here, as others were sleeping!
And all warty and green in my new midnight mode,
I find I've become... the new Latenight Toad.

toad stone

children never listen
but children learn to learn
children blow to whistle
children break and burn

but one day if you follow
you'll see a wisp of light
and when you see who follows you
you'll swear it was a night--

taz, I'm, speechless. You rock.

Quite awesome, taz.

i think we have a submission for the book!

*claps* Those are terrific! And yes, Taz's must be in the book.