The Reality of a Toad

The whole world
is trying to seduce you,
or so they say.
Just be patient.
Underneath everything,
especially in the familiar setting of a forest
as it whispers a thick smell of dreams,
there is a poor
distressed
character
just waiting to be rescued,
or at the very least, kissed.
And so you grow up
peeping inside wild roses
and harmlessly leaving
a trail of chocolate chip cookies,
just in case.
Until one day,
there happens to be
a toad
waiting and breathing
under the canopy shade,
a hint of divine royalty
from the tiny green leaf
fitting the space between
his eyes.
You scoop him up
and watch his lungs
take in air through his
bumpy mud-green skin.
Should you pucker up?
Imagine this toad,
contentedly
eating his meals with relish.
Imagine him
admiring his warts,
or the way he can
spring forth with his legs.
Imagine him
falling in love,
in his own toady manner.
The moment he is in your
palm is forgettable. He is waiting
to be released.