A Frog

A young frog sat on his pad,
Not an Apple but a lily, he had.
While on the pad, he did perch
Quietly, like he was in church.
In church, for a frog, I'd soon see
Was done for protection, not reverie.
For frogs of his size, could soon
Be eaten by a bird. No not a Loon.
The dangers for him, would go on.
His fear was the mighty Blue Heron.
A long shadow, cut through his light;
He jumped into the water, out of sight,
Holding his breath, he managed to stay
And escaped the Heron, at least for today.