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28 September, 2012

(Sung to Pachelbel’s Cannon)

I am certainly most lucky

that my frog is still alive.

He has proved himself quite plucky

through his great will to survive.

My bath tub has lily pads and

cattails where he loves to hide.

I do not know what I’d do with them

if, in fact, my frog had died.

There he sits most every evening

singing of his love for me,

to my eyes tears often bringing

and, to my heart, ecstasy.

While this tune by Pachelbel goes

On for an eternity,

My brief message: My frog’s legs roas-

ted up quite deliciously.


From → Stories & Poetry

  1. I was once offered money by my dad to eat frog legs…I think your creativity with the theme.

    • I don’t think I’d want to eat a frog but, once a very long time ago, I did taste frogs’s legs. They were indeed quite good. Thanks for the feedback.

      • I think I got $2 from my dad when I was about 12 to eat a frog leg at a Croatian restaurant in Chicago. I don’t remember it being awful. It was just the idea, not the taste. It was like chicken I think. 😀

      • I’m relieved. I have a vivid and sometimes perverse imagination that has a life of its own.

      • At least you’re not shy! 😀

      • I’m actually quite reserved, if not shy, until I get to know someone. When I get to know a person, or start to feel comfortable in a group, it would be an understatement to say I become a jokester. Thanks again for your comments.

      • You have a thing for poetry though and I like your articles.

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