Conspiracy
A haggard hawk drops
A stone on the pond
Making a ring wave tricky trap
A fed up frog jumps up
Thinking of a drop
Hope of new life and rain
Swamps down quickly a crane
Making a feast out of the frog
Pond can't punish the culprits
Begs pardon with folded hands.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Related quotes
Coyote and Frog (Native American)
Coyote and his friends walked to a pond
But found Frog and his clan now living there.
“This pond is small for all of us, ” Frog said.
“ Find water of your own. We cannot share.”
“If you will let us drink our fill and bathe,
I’ll get you a warm blanket and a blue stone
That’s bigger than your fist, ” Coyote offered.
When Frog agreed, Coyote went for them alone.
Frog took the gifts and led them to the pond.
Later as they left Frog laughed, “Good trade! ”
In fact, Coyote stole the gifts from Thunderbird,
Now furiously tracking prints the thief had made.
Coyote returned next day to find the Frog clan dead.
He took his people to the pond. “Good trade, ” he said.
poem by Chuck Toll
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A Parable
a frog, always the frog
has always been a frog
servant to the fog, but
one frog one day decides
to be a bull to the dismay
of the frogs in that little pond
to the ridicule of the bulls
nearby but the frog learns
to be a bull and bully has
he become until one day
he gains the respect of the
other bulls to the pleasure
of the sun to the disdain
of the fog on the hills
nothing is impossible
to the power of the mind
this the frog follows
through and through
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Life Lived Of A Belching Frog
Is the life lived of a belching frog,
More important than the one...
Sitting quietly on a lily pad,
Looking at its reflection...
On a mirror smooth pond?
Or is the frog that belches,
Showing more appreciation...
For the flies that are attracted.
And the reason that a belching frog,
Could care less about an image reflected.
But expresses a gratefulness for the feast,
Available to be eaten.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Phileas the Frog
Phileas the frog was awfully large -
To see the muscle in his thighs -
A sight bedazzling to your eyes!
With plenty there to feed a town -
If you would dare to take him down!
Phileas the frog could tow a barge.
One hefty bound could clear a tree -
A scary sight I'll guarantee!
And something else to make me dread:
Were he to land upon my head!
Phileas the frog was known as 'Sarge -'
Accounted by that massive chest.
No other frog would care to jest
That tidy Phileas!
So if you've sense and know your place -
And hold some value to your face,
Then don't get supercilious
With Phileas!
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved.
Frog frog frog frog frog frog frog frog
Frog frog frog frog frog frog frog frog
Frog frog frog frog frog frog frog frog
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Frog
France and China feed from your demise,
Restaurateurs are not exactly chums,
Oh how they rave about your tender thighs!
Gourmand orders - another frog succumbs…
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
frog
frog frog
frog frog
frog frog
frog frog
Frog frog
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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It's better to be a big frog in a little pond than a little frog in a big pond.
The Sound Of The Rain
do not mislead me with the
point-of-view of the frog
you croak and you say this
is how something beautiful
sounds, how ugliness feigns
i tell you i like the rain and
the frog likes it too, i am
one of those frogs bathing
and jumping on the pond,
but do not mislead me with
your sound, it does not sound
like the hush of the wind,
it has no color of the moon,
i am one of the frogs of this
pond, but i do not wish to
sound like you: i am in love
with the sound of the rain,
and this is the one that makes
me stay. It is not you, your
sound is not gentle, it is
rough like the skin of the
teething toad. I love the
rain, the way it sounds,
and that is enough
for my suffering.
Dripping.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Old pond
the brook stream out to the valley that looks
old and clumsy, where the old pond
rooted the crystallized water mixed with
droplets of rain
sweet melody flows with therapeutic chime
echo the silent moment of day; calling the
little Dragonfly to catch the beautiful flower of
Lilies as the jiggle frog spare high notes for
a choral rendition of song to lie
window looks open wide and see the monsoon
rain wait to play, now the moon wind has
just come as swing the twig of the sun down to
jump into the pool and the beautiful frog enjoy
its stay
fall back the roof that leak, the sun has reach the
meadow and say goodbye, leaving the pond
a sweet memory for everyone, the old that
return the new to become the only one pond
as you water the old shadow of the new glory; the
point has yet to flame the beginning of the new
and wonderful cloth of shinning vessel of
crystallize spirit living in you
witness the frog in the old pond; same melody
sang as the water flows into the stream of unending
face of today..........be on your way
poem by Antonio Liao
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Oh! Wonderful Frog
oh little Frog, why you have always see
the sky and shade tears for the rain to come,
look your feet ready to swim and your
tongue seems happy to sing
oh wonderful Frog, you shatter the night
with your fantastic chord, orchestrated by the
different voices where everybody laugh to
sing for the whole day, the nightingale of the
rain
oh come my dear valued Frog my heart find
its wisdom of the rain to come, you’ll the
driven power in every changing world; the
calmness of the silent night awake of your
songs, the turmoil river smoothly gone to the
sea and the flowers go asleep as you form
the kaleidoscopic tune of melody
oh Frog, the dawning forest lives as you
command, come and let me sing the sweet
stay with thee, take the funny lullaby that
makes every child swims happily as you sang,
and you’re the early song that window of
each child love to jump in the pond
beautiful Frog lends my hands ……
poem by Antonio Liao
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The old pond--
a frog jumps in,
sound of water.
haiku by Matsuo Basho, translated by Robert Hass
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A Little Frog
A little Frog could well be
A beating Frog in camouflage
A jumping Frog cold, scary
A poisoning Frog breathing through the skin
An Underwater Frog flooding…
A Drowned heart in love with...
The little Frog.
poem by Florida Angel
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Hop Frog
Well they call me a juicy hop-frog
you can see me in any wood bog
don't you know that they call me the hop-frog
hopping frog
I'm a hop-frog
a hop-frog
they call me the hop-frog
hop, hop-frog
They call me the hop-frog
see me in any wood bog
don't you know that call me a hop-frog
hop-frog
They call me the hop-frog
see me in a wood bog
they're calling me a hop-frog
hop-frog
You can see me in a ballroom
you can see me in a bedroom
you can see me in the woods
hop, hop-frog
They call me the hop-frog
they call you the hop-frog
well they call you the hop-frog
hop, hop-frog
Frog
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waterlily
waterlily
waterlily
green my bottom is white eye do have the longest roots in this pond of brooks Walden the frog is not real heavy he is one of the young ones eye suppose he likes me he feels safe sitting me eye dew enjoy his company the things this lily pad does is float then dream of love the fish here got lazy they do not even nibble on my roots eye like to pretend to live forever its so cool when the sky clouds up eye no longer fear the rain falls from the white sky the drops not even disturbing my wort up top the frog shudders then relaxes letting the water cascade past him to the river is under us under the ground the underground river is found below the water line the water is not good to drink dark swirling blackish stench but here the life is clean the air is pure where frogs sit on these lilypads to dream of love in Walden's pond
poem by Charles Hice
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Matchmaker
Behind my house there is a quaint little pond
And every time it rains a little green frog responds
I know that he is lonely and cries into the night
He is longing to find a mate to be complete and all right
The heat is sweltering and he swims on afternoons
Longing for the rain during the night to voice his tunes
Sometimes he is resting on a moist mossy green rock
Looking around aware of his biological clock
On the other side there is a creek behind the pool
There is a small green frog all alone and it's cruel
So I went and captured the one by my pond
And brought it over to the creek to make a bond
Now my nights are filled with silence and peace
And one would think my good night's rest would increase
But instead I was wondering if the frogs getting along
Because if not - then what I did was totally wrong
This morning my neighbor that lives by the creek
Came over to complain about the noise at night's peak
She said that there is a whole family of green frog's right there
She will never know how happy I am about that - I swear
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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A Spotted Frog (The Politician)
There he sits
A spotted frog
He grins from ear to ear
Waterbugs quake across the
Pond's surface
The spotted frog sits
Stone-still on his perch
Silently stalking a humming dragonfly
His eyes shimmer
His mouth waters
His tounge is itching to snap out
And snatch the poor bug's life
His prey draws closer to his
Invisible enemy
All of the sudden
The urge is too strong to contain
His tounge snaps
The dragonfly silently flaps his last
Wingspan, breathes his last breath
The frog has devoured the innocent
Creature
There he sits
A spotted frog
Silently stalking another dragonfly
The urge to hurt and devour
Too strong to subdue
poem by Shannon Hughes
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The Frog and the Dragonfly
From the pond they both came
Hatching and making their debut
Both a gift from the water’s edge
One hopped and the other flew
As the frog searched for sustenance
He spied a bug and waited patiently
In a flash he swallowed with a gulp
He digested his treat quite efficiently
The dragonfly’s wings beat at a rapid rate
Mosquitoes offered an array of delight
Hovering momentarily, then plunging…
The dragonfly seized its dinner in flight
Then one sunny day it came to be
That bulging eyes anticipated a feast
The amphibious one was famished
Soon the dragonfly would be deceased
In a fleeting second, the action concluded
The sleek winged delicacy was out of reach
Too fast… too quick to become a banquet
The disappointed frog returned to the beach
As a shadow from a feathered predator was cast
A leap and a splash secured appreciated safety
Suddenly sympathy recalled the dragonfly’s escape
Now the frog understood the food chain in its entirety
poem by Theresa Ann Moore
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How Bird and Frog Finish Up
All was fine in the forest.
Sun beams glistening
through the trees
Stillness all around,
everything as it should be.
Lonely in his pond frog had
resigned to never being loved.
He saw the deers
going about in pairs
Even raccoons had families,
females by the scores
But nair a frogess anywhere
would respond
to the most practiced ribbit.
I guess as frogs go
he was much a horny toad.
So he sat alone
in his tepid mossy pond.
On an average morn
in the glistening beams
of forest floor,
with his eyes practically
atop his head,
he spotted a beautiful creature
he knew he must wed!
Graceful, swift, slim,
with the song of a crane,
she gave him the hops
something fierce!
He began to croak
knowing usually this led
to nothing more than a joke
on his bestead.
But he sang his gullet out
to gain the attention of
his intended wife.
Swooping down he feared
with a peck and one gulp,
she would turn him down by
making breakfast of him.
Stead she chirped a reply
to his shocking glee,
he understood her
he could not deny
was an astounding
“I really dig you”
With you slick green skin,
bumpy tattoos,
pretty song you sing for me.
I swoon until the noon,
None of the other birds
do it for me like you do,
Hence I have been single
without an egg to roost
and never a feather plucked
by a green hot bird”
Then beak to gullet
he laid it on her
No dumb frog
he wasn’t letting
a sexy bird get away!
A kiss that the forest
could not understand.
But the beginning
of a great romance.
The mossy curtain
was pulled.
Not long after a shingle
was pecked, hung
Mr. and Mrs. Frogbird’s pond
“If it be a splashin‘,
no camera flashin‘,
and don’t be trashin’
our strange love.'
For many years to come
frog and bird
will get it done.
poem by Sandra Dodd
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Samadhi
an old man
sweeps leaves and
twigs
upon the grave of
his master
an old poet
loses himself
upon a frog
that once jumps
into the pond
the last one
was lost
in the middle of
the green ocean
in this poem
something is
happening
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Rain Falls To This Pond
What I see is a dead frog
For years there was drought
And today
A raindrops are falling on this pond
The frog is alive again
Jumping Jumping
Overjoy!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Walking The Frog
I have a pet frog
We go frog walking every day at 6pm
He is fine until he sees another frog
He sniffs & then tries to jump
I pull him away
Last week we had a problem
My frog stopped to do his business
A passer bye said stop your frog fouling
I cleared up after him but it left a slimy mark
The other man slipped on it
My frog likes water
Especially ponds
He likes jumping on lilies
The local gardener is mad
Control your frog he shouts
Well now Im in trouble
Despite the sign
Beware of the FROG
He bit a policeman
A fine guard frog
My frog is now banned
From walks anywhere
Poor froggy is in a cell
Eating flies & drinking water
Its a frogs life
poem by Alan Draper
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