01 - Toad Poem by George Hunter

As I was walking down the road
Upon the road I spied a toad
Upon the toad I saw a load
A load of grass that he'd just mowed.

I say, fat toad, what do you here
At this joyous time of year?
Hopping so merrily across the road
Carrying such a heavy load

For the same reason, I've been told
The chicken had in days of old.
Just to get to the other side
Where I thought I'd thumb a ride.
Hopping is really such a bore,
And my feet are getting very sore.

Upon the road the big toad sat
I'd never seen a toad so fat
Or even a bat, gnat, rat, or cat.
A toad so fat and that was that
And so I put him in my hat.

And then when all was done and said
I put my hat upon my head.
He spun three times to make his bed
Upon the few hairs on my head.
I thought he might want to be fed
But he wanted bad to sleep instead.

He awoke when it came dawn
And had himself a mighty yawn.
About that time I named him Shawn
And placed his ass upon the lawn.

Having just gotten up, as we all do,
He had himself a pee and poo
And being neat he wiped his ass
Upon the morning's dewey grass.
Now I have to go to Mass
So find yourself a buxom lass
So he hopped away into the grass
And didn't give me any sass
‘Cause all good things they have to pass.

I felt the skin upon my head
Where he'd made his little bed
To see if he had left a wart
Or any blemish of that sort
And was very pleased to make my report
It was clean as a just swept tennis court.
Maybe a little excresescence
Was left over from his presence
But no moles or warts
Of any sorts.
That old theory must fail
As an old wives' tale
And I wiped off my head with a dash of ale.
For I'd found no slime
From that pal of mine
And we had had a very good time.

So good-bye to you, you little fat toad.
And if I ever meet you again on the road.
You can sleep once more upon my head
And I will tuck you into bed.