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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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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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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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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A Frog's Just A Frog
Of the complexities of Nature how can one explain
Who can tell of the workings of the amphibian's brain
Why he often does sing in the wind and the rain
His song more like a croak in the watery drain
A frog's just a frog as many do say
Those who dismiss Nature in their arrogant way
Our connection to Nature they do seem to miss
But I envy them their ignorance since ignorance is bliss
About Nature as me as much they do know
I have lived many Seasons but with little to show
In knowledge of Nature others I lag behind
But an expert on Nature perhaps one could not find
A frog's just a frog you will hear many say
But frogs are so complex in their secretive way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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The Frog Poem(duh Duh Duhhhhhhhhh)
Leap frog,
Jump frog,
Everywhere you go frog,
Smile frog,
Croak frog,
Everywhere you go frog,
stomp, stomp, stomp
SQUASH! ! !
Bye, bye frog.
The Boy Next Door
There's a boy who lives next door;
And this boy is just as bad
As a boy can be; and poor!
He's so poor it makes me sad
When I see him. Out at knee;
And no shoes; and, more than that,
Hardly any shirt or hat.
He's as poor as Poverty.
II.
But I like him; yes, I do.
He can play 'most any game,
And tell fairy stories, too;
Funny stories, just the same
As my father does. And he
Told me one about a frog,
Living near a lake or bog,
Frog that married a bumblebee.
III.
And another of Jumping Joan
And Hink Minx, the old witch that
Sits before the fire alone
Frying fat for her black cat.
And of Craney Crow; her dog
And her chicken. But the best,
One I like more than the rest,
'S that one of the bee and frog.
IV.
Well, the bumblebee would sing
All day long; and all the night
Sang the old frog; till the thing,
So folks said, was done in spite,
Just to keep the flowers awake:
One a rose, a brier-rose;
And the other, one of those
Lilies that grow in a lake.
V.
All day long the bee would prod
At the rose and buzz and keep
Shaking it; it couldn't nod,
Much less ever go to sleep:
Humming to it, 'Don't you hear?
I'm so happy! Can't you be
Just a little neighborly?
Ain't my froggie just a dear?'
VI.
And the frog all night would sing
To the water-lily; while
On the pad he'd sit or cling,
On his face an ear-wide smile,
Croaking, 'Listen! have you heard
All about my bouncing bee?
Don't you wish that you were she?
I'm as happy as a bird!'
VII.
Then the water-lily'd yawn,
And the rose would bat its eyes:
One would say, 'It's nearly dawn.
Better sleep. So I advise.'
And the other, 'Jumping Jim!
That old frog's a wonder! made
Just for you. Can't I persuade
You to sing your songs to him?'
VIII.
Finally it got so bad
That the rose and lily agreed
They would fix them. Both were mad
And just dying to be freed
From this tuneful tyranny.
So the rose just took a thorn,
When the bee dropped in one morn,
Stabbed her; killed her dead, you see.
IX.
That night by the yellow moon,
Sitting on the lily-pad,
Tuning up his old bassoon,
Did n't that old frog feel sad
When the lily told him! Cried
Fit to break one's heart; and, plunk!
In he plunged right there and sunk:
Drowned, committed suicide.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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The frog and damsel
My sweet princess, oh how much luv u show to me, a lowly frog, my ugliness doesn't chase u, but charms u..U are not gutted by my look and colur. my croak Is like music in ur head, oh how much I want to jump with my powerful limbs and kiss ur soft lips..
You lied to me, you lovely frog, you deceived me out of your nobility and humanity to believing that you, my handsome frog knows nothing of poetry, I am impressed by ur humility, but most of all I am struck buy my new very genuine need to know you more, maybe a kiss wouldn't hurt, and then I could turn into a beautiful frog, and we can live happily ever after!
poem by Venessa Ambrose
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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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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 Frog Like Me
Ribbit ribbit I am a frog
As pretty as a frog can be
I love to jump from log to log
Come with me and you'll see
Eating bugs is what I do
My legs are kinda short
I promise not to hug or kiss you
Cause that will give you warts
My skin is really bumpy
Not as smooth as yours
Like when your head gets lumpy
From walking into a door
Being a frog can be fun
When swimming with mom and dad
Jump on in and get some sun
Out here on my lilly pad
I never swear or even fight
Thats not the way to be
So now you know what it's like
To be a frog like me
poem by Kevin Seales
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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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Oh Little Frog
Oh Little Frog, Oh Little Frog
I love you so completely
I love to see you sitting there
On the lily pad so neatly
Your googly eyes spy little flies
That's scrummy in your tummy
You hop around from pad to pad
You really do look funny
Your neon green
Your big long tongue
You are a prince it’s true
I really wish that I could be a frog
Just the same as you
poem by Grant Stevenson
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Danny's Birthday
A frog hopped by and said to me,
'Heard you married a dude so neat'.
Said the frog as he caught a fly,
‘Heard his birthday is coming by! ’
I said, ‘Yes, how did you know? ’
Said the frog clapping his hands,
‘Cos we play in the same jazz band! ’
I said, ‘Will you come and help celebrate? ’
‘You betcha! ’ said the frog with glee,
I will be there..
‘cos, you see..
mmm…
I am he! !
poem by Naheed Brown
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Frog In The Log
There once was a handsome green frog
who resided inside an old log.
He had cut two small vents
in the log for defense
but the stork used, as cover, the fog.
And he swallowed the frog in the buff
though just one frog was never enough
for a frog in a log
who can't see in the fog
daily life can be utterly tough.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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The Golden Frog
Down by the river on a water log
Came jumping a golden frog
He sits on a little lily pad
He catches flies and he's never sad
Then one day a lizard came
He was hot all over and frog was the same
Now frog is happy because he has a friend
And they share a fly shake blend
poem by Sinead HoYJ
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How Nice To Be A Naughty Frog!
Reading love in your eye's gives me pride.
I am floating on that lottery winners tide.
I am your ugly frog you lovingly kissed.
Turning into that handsome dream Prince.
How Nice To Be A Naughty Frog!
You treasure my sexy body essences pure.
Charming love pleasures divine for sure.
Our body odours sing affectionate songs.
Paradise concealed in your legs so strong.
How Nice To Be A Naughty Frog!
A stream flowing in paradise lasting forever.
Dashing country pursuits seeking pleasure.
Making love with an handsome Frog dear.
Your naked beauty outstanding and clear.
How Nice To Be A Naughty Frog!
Your tadpole eggs wriggling inside I adore.
Giggle on that dream cloud with you amore.
Pleasures amongst fragrant flowers all fun.
Under golden lightning of that sinking sun.
How Nice To Be A Naughty Frog!
poem by Anthony Fry
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