The Pond Poem by john (called jack) wren

Prodding the surface with a twig
I make the water jump and jig,
And ripple, with wave after wave,
Into the weeds to misbehave.
What life lies beneath my gaze
Among this tangled watery maze,
Where weed and lilies promenade
Hand in hand, in their backyard.
Then, at the surface creatures arise
With beady eyes that scrutinise
A mischievous boy, one rather bland
Poking the water with stick in hand,
Who, taken aback with this awesome sight
Fled with the speed of a meteorite,
Then, like a sweetly smiling schoolmarm.
The pond returned to its quiet charm