Toad

Under succulents,

through ripe soft sandstone squashes,

time wasting legumes,

warm dank hideaways,

copious, lush, dreek dark continents,

sluggish snail worlds,

violet leaf mould,

cloying noxious squelchy mulch,

luscious juicy plump larvae,

lush munchable delicacies,

scrummy fat spiders,

plump drugged bugs,

Toad completes his morning round

and

sated  on his stool throne,

his vicious tongue primed for purpose,

idly oozing unctuous

obnoxious gunge,

vile putrefaction,

puffing on a dead pope’s pipe,

already rubbed

attends to his correspondence