Thursday, 6 December 2012

Dickens toad

This toad lives in my hearts home
Where history is being made
A country full of peoples
Living amongst the glades

This toad might recognise themselves
But mostly likely think it's not them
Their words bring joy to my days
I'd be lost without their poems

Can you guess who it is?


10 comments:

Kay L. Davies said...

Love your Dickens toad, but cannot guess who it might be. How wonderful, however, that someone's words bring joy to your days.
K

Anders Woje Ellingsen said...

No. I wish it was me. :-)

But I am not fond of toads. So I keep away from that site. You remember the plagues sent over Egypt by the spear of Moses? Frogs were one of them. The problem with the frog is that it is a) a creep and b) is disinterrested. It never pays justice, only sitting there full of itself watching. It is devoid of love. So I don't want to be a toad.

Susan said...

I love the tone of this poem, gentle and loving, but I cannot guess--I haven't been here long enough. Unless it is Kerry, mother of us all?

Kerry O'Connor said...

Nope, it's not me.. but I'm not sure who lives in the glades either.

Ella said...

Laurie came to my mind! :D but I'm not sure...

Ella said...

Gosh, not sure...but I do love what you wrote :D

Margaret said...

Mary?

or is it Kerry?

Sweet sentiments.

Fireblossom said...

Mary, perhaps?

jasmine calyx said...

Perhaps "glades" is a metaphor for the open spaces created by these lovely poets, speaking wisdom and truth. I think she is writing about the Toads collectively---all of you are inspirations to her, a clearing amongst the trees, as it were.

Kerry O'Connor said...

Thanks Emma! I'm sorry I didn't recognize my home here. The history and peoples should have given it away!