In the quiet of the night, beneath the silver glow,
Frogs gather round the lily pads, in gentle ebb and flow.
Their voices rise in chorus, a serenade so sweet,
As moonbeams dance upon the pond, where earth and water meet.

Each croak a rhythmic heartbeat, echoing through the air,
A melody of nature’s charm, beyond all worldly care.
The symphony of frogs unfolds beneath the starry dome,
A timeless tale of life and love, in their watery home.

As crickets join the serenade, a harmony is spun,
The night becomes a canvas vast, where dreams and whispers run.
The frogs, with voices strong and pure, weave stories of the past,
Of ancient ponds and moonlit nights, where moments ever last.

So listen to the frogs tonight, beneath the midnight sky,
Their croaks are more than simple sounds, they are a lullaby.
A gentle call to all who hear, to pause and simply be,
With frogs beneath the moonlit pond, in perfect harmony.