on why it is necessary to talk kindly to frogs

i met a frog in my garden today
lurking under a stone ; it said
there used to be a pond here
i know i said i had to dig it up

pity said the frog and looked at me
as if i was the thickest mortal
a garden without water it croaked
is worse than a tongue without spit

there's a pond next door i said
you could get there in two short hops
the frog eyed me with green contempt
next door it said is not where we are

that night there was a full moon
it came and sat on my hedge
there used to be a frog here it said
what have you done to upset it

i hate frogs that talk i complained
moon eyed me with silver contempt
you can't treat frogs like that; repent
i beg you or you'll end up cursed

it tipped backwards off the hedge
and plopped into next door's pond
such a cackle of frog's song then
moon shone brightly in the water

no frog came back to the stone
moon stayed away from my garden
so (guiltily) i built a pond -
something keeps draining the water