Along the road, a greenish toad in wait the bouncing hare
Stood all alone, in need a bone, this turtle with such flare.
He stood so still, beyond the sill of sash and window high
and waited for an open door with sprinkles in an eye.

The road is dark and oh so stark, no shadows could be seen
for clouds did come, his heart did strum, a silly turtle green.
And from the trees, a lofty breeze did startle the fair hare
who won the race, but lost the chase and never again will dare

I KNOW I didn’t do this poet well, but hey, I tried....