Pond Life At Sunset
Another day’s daylight is fading,
and the evening sunset is red;
in the pond at the end of the garden,
mating calls are starting to spread.
There’s a chorus of croaking and growling
from the suitors attracting a mate.
The pond is a constant of ripples,
that dueling does tend to create.
Green heads are held out of water;
throats bubble on a lily pad,
but while attention’s diverted,
a visitor appears mighty glad.
Among sedges, grasses and bulrush,
a fork tongue is flicking for heat,
where all that he senses is dinner,
and frogs make a wonderful treat.
The spikes on the sedges are beds,
for the night of the dragonfly,
and a blue heron finishes feeding,
for the branch of a gum tree up high.
Pigmy Perch are quite relieved,
for they are the predators now,
mosquito wrigglers are lessened,
but many do survive somehow.
The pond is a home for so many,
but balance is struck keenly fine,
between plants, predators, and prey,
with the need for them all to combine.
Another day’s daylight is fading,
and the evening sunset is red;
shadow quickly covers the land,
and stars put the pond life to bed.
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