Beneath the silver moon’s embrace,
In tranquil ponds, a hidden place.
The frogs begin their nightly song,
A chorus where they all belong.

With throaty croaks and gentle hums,
Their melody to night succumbs.
Each note a whisper in the night,
A serenade to stars so bright.

The ripples dance with every sound,
As lily pads in rhythm bound.
The frogs, in harmony, they sing,
A symphony of nature’s ring.

So listen close, and you may hear,
The frogs’ sweet song both far and near.
An orchestra beneath the skies,
Where dreams and nature intertwine.