Then the cows moored,
and the crickets danced in the dark,
The birds too afraid to talk, whispered in their nests,
Even the bravest of them all,
The ever barking Chui,
Tail between legs,
Never managed a whisper,
The rains Pelts the thatched roof,
The humongous sounds Muffled,
The Frogs not cheerful anymore,
But our spirits on high,
It could be the robers,
Or the night olympicists,
Or no one at
