RIBBIT!

Down in the bog,

Where the water moves slow,

They tell of a frog

With a voice extra low.

From his looks you would think

That he’d make a small beep,

But he’d give you a wink,

Then he’d croak long and deep.

And the ground, it would rumble!

The trees, they would shake!

Your cookie would crumble,

And so would your cake!

And although he was small

As a grasshopper’s thumb,

His croak was the call

For the raindrops to come.

So tiny and stealthy,

This one little froggy

Kept all the bog healthy

And squishy and soggy!

It just goes to show you

That if you are small,

With no one below you,

The smallest of all,

You really do matter—

It’s really your choice!

So make the world gladder,

And raise up your voice!