In barren nights of Arabian sands, where frogs croak for rain,
Croak-croak, wishing for nothing but relieving their pain,
Their dry skin and brown ruby eyes as they jump in the wind,
They travel in search of mud to play, which helps their skin.
There play a spellbind on the tint, all not in vain.
Crickets sing in jubilant night chirp-chirp,
They are just saying, I am lonely, come trip-trip,
Their courtship starts with ~ I love you in a low raspy sound,
They're ready to be aggressive, back off ~ like a hound.
At night there is only one Knight ship, which starts with chirp-chirp.
The nightingale, a seamstress of the night,
Weaving her beautiful voice in twilight,
Hweet~huit~huiip, her sound so light with flute mellowness,
Seeing all these instances, sleep confides in cheerfulness.
Image credit: Leonardo Ai
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An Escape
PoesieAn Escape! Not the First! I know won't be the last. But this one was fruitful. Cover Image by Toa Heftiba https://unsplash.com/@heftiba
