Stuart Lieberman

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A Quiet Country Scene

The frog was waiting for a fly.
I waited too, to watch the try.
The pond was still, the lily smiled
And then a fly just happened by.

Did it know what waited there?
Was it cruel? Is life unfair?
We waited, silent, then it lighted;
Lily smiled, frog fixed its stare.

Dragonflies whirled up above,
The carob trees were full of love.
The frog was quick, its mercy sweet.
Can we enjoy all that we eat?

The sun passed mourning and I sighed.
Was it sad? Had beauty lied?
In the quiet tranquil scene
Something lurked there quite obscene.

The pond again was still, serene.
The frog stared wide-eyed straight at me.
My back turned cold. What could it mean
To love a quiet country scene?

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