The Wooden Talisman

‘Twas passed down from my dear father many ago
from a shanty South African marketplace
A wooden froglet to remind me of him
Its soft-brown complexion as warm and wispy
as a soothing pot of breakfast tea
Its smooth feel thrust upon its oak-bronze demeanour
Its robust back-spikes are the potency of my father
and extricating croaky stridencies of sound when stroked
Its soft eyes expressing the emotion of my father
Its strong brow demonstrating his forgiving heart
Thus its protruding nose leads you to the innocent toothless jaw
Through which my father expresses his love
My talisman gives me resilience–
Something to stare and ponder at
When I’m dolorous