Not My Fault

I'm afraid it was the sun as it coaxed leaves to glisten within a gentle background of white noise breeze that made the grass sway I too accuse the reds and the yellows of flowers that knowingly indulged their vibrancy, violet the cunning ringleader whose plan was hatched that fateful day when I stood inadvertently murmuring discreetly appreciating, but a frog had jumped beside me I didn't know he was there I hope I can count on his discretion