Chapter One - A Wave is Born
A gentle breeze came drifting down a dusty, country lane,
That paved its way across the fields of green and yellow grain.
The breeze turned toward a meadow where it strolled among the grass.
The oats and barley, wheat and rye, all swayed as it blew past.
In sweeps and swirls of golden curls, they danced to summer’s song.
With whispered hush the prairie waves rolled silently along.
Amidst the fields of grass and grain, a farm pond glistened blue.
The breeze swept toward the sparkling pool and paused as o’er it flew,
Then bending down from where it stopped, it kissed the pond below.
A ripple formed, quite small at first. The breeze began to blow.
The ripple grew as it was pushed. The pond’s smooth surface, torn.
And stronger still the breeze blew 'til... a little wave was born.
That paved its way across the fields of green and yellow grain.
The breeze turned toward a meadow where it strolled among the grass.
The oats and barley, wheat and rye, all swayed as it blew past.
In sweeps and swirls of golden curls, they danced to summer’s song.
With whispered hush the prairie waves rolled silently along.
Amidst the fields of grass and grain, a farm pond glistened blue.
The breeze swept toward the sparkling pool and paused as o’er it flew,
Then bending down from where it stopped, it kissed the pond below.
A ripple formed, quite small at first. The breeze began to blow.
The ripple grew as it was pushed. The pond’s smooth surface, torn.
And stronger still the breeze blew 'til... a little wave was born.
Chapter Two - The Pond
The infant wave opened its eyes and tried to look around.
“Kerplunk!” there was a splash nearby that made the wave’s heart pound.
A big green frog had jumped into the water near the wave.
“Hi!” croaked the frog. “Oh, don’t be scared. Out here one must be brave.”
A dragonfly called, “Hey, down there,” as it hummed overhead.
“Perhaps you’d like to play some games?” a kind old turtle said.
The tiny wave had so much fun each long, warm summer day.
In games of tag or hide-and-seek, around the pond they’d play.
Between these games the wave was taught about all nature’s laws.
And learned how land and sea and air, have both their strengths and flaws.
The small wave learned how delicate this balance really was,
When one day something odd occurred which proved just what change does.
“Kerplunk!” there was a splash nearby that made the wave’s heart pound.
A big green frog had jumped into the water near the wave.
“Hi!” croaked the frog. “Oh, don’t be scared. Out here one must be brave.”
A dragonfly called, “Hey, down there,” as it hummed overhead.
“Perhaps you’d like to play some games?” a kind old turtle said.
The tiny wave had so much fun each long, warm summer day.
In games of tag or hide-and-seek, around the pond they’d play.
Between these games the wave was taught about all nature’s laws.
And learned how land and sea and air, have both their strengths and flaws.
The small wave learned how delicate this balance really was,
When one day something odd occurred which proved just what change does.
A noisy truck drove down the lane and toward the pond did turn.
A tank was strapped upon its back and nozzles stem to stern.
It sprayed an awful smelling mist across the grassy plain.
And from then on life on the pond was never quite the same.
The frogs and turtles lay about and wouldn't play around.
The dragonflies, more sadly though, were nowhere to be found.
The little wave grew very sad for now the fun was through,
And so it paced the pond for weeks, not knowing what to do.
Before the sun arose one day, the wave awoke from sleep,
To quacking sobs both loud and long, the kind a duck might weep.
The drowsy wave shuffled around and searched the foggy pond.
It found a noisy duck, but was unsure how to respond.
A tank was strapped upon its back and nozzles stem to stern.
It sprayed an awful smelling mist across the grassy plain.
And from then on life on the pond was never quite the same.
The frogs and turtles lay about and wouldn't play around.
The dragonflies, more sadly though, were nowhere to be found.
The little wave grew very sad for now the fun was through,
And so it paced the pond for weeks, not knowing what to do.
Before the sun arose one day, the wave awoke from sleep,
To quacking sobs both loud and long, the kind a duck might weep.
The drowsy wave shuffled around and searched the foggy pond.
It found a noisy duck, but was unsure how to respond.
Just then a flock of mallards flapped their way across the sky.
“It’s been so nice to meet you,” said the duck, “and now, goodbye.”
“Can I go, too?” the small wave asked, “I'd also like to leave.”
“But you don’t fly,” remarked the duck. “At least, I don't believe.”
“Well, no,” the small wave sadly sighed, and gave a sorry look.
“No problem,” called the mallard back. “Just follow down the brook.”
The little wave had never thought to leave the pond before.
But with no reason now to stay, it might as well explore.
“Will this brook lead me to the kids?” the small wave yelled right back.
“You’re bound to come upon a few,” the duck called with a quack.
Around the pond, the little wave gave one last, gloomy look,
And watched the mallards fly away, then headed for the brook.
“It’s been so nice to meet you,” said the duck, “and now, goodbye.”
“Can I go, too?” the small wave asked, “I'd also like to leave.”
“But you don’t fly,” remarked the duck. “At least, I don't believe.”
“Well, no,” the small wave sadly sighed, and gave a sorry look.
“No problem,” called the mallard back. “Just follow down the brook.”
The little wave had never thought to leave the pond before.
But with no reason now to stay, it might as well explore.
“Will this brook lead me to the kids?” the small wave yelled right back.
“You’re bound to come upon a few,” the duck called with a quack.
Around the pond, the little wave gave one last, gloomy look,
And watched the mallards fly away, then headed for the brook.
