Horse Sense Under The Oak Tree
It was the greenest green
that she had ever seen.
A tiny, sad-eyed frog,
daydreaming on a log.
'She' was, of course, a horse,
who used, as a good source
of minerals the log
upon which sat the frog.
It was a cloudless, balmy day
and many children were at play.
They did not bother either critter
due to their spinster babysitter.
Thus undisturbed, they did commence
a conversation near the fence.
The mare inquired why the green
was something she had never seen.
The frog, though young, said 'At my age
I'm somewhat of a macrophage,
my diet has its own routine
most bugs I eat contain some green.
Derived from noble chlorophyll,
the stuff keeps you from getting ill.'
' I see', the horse said, 'what about
a horse like me? I'm rather stout,
a fancy Palomino mare
with chestnut colour, which is rare.
Mind you, I like the way I look
in the reflection of the brook
up at the quarry, near the tip,
though I don't like my lower lip.'
'I know', the frog huffed, 'you were born
with chestnut colour on that morn,
what keeps you chestnut is your habit
to get up late, unlike the rabbit,
you eat the grass when it turns brown! '
The mare had placed a thoughtful frown
upon her fat-lipped oblong face,
'now understand that our race
is quite superior to small fry
like frogs and insects, who all die
without a funeral or wake.
You just get eaten, for the sake
of fighting excess population.
Which, a result of fornication
takes food away from upper classes!
I'm sure you've heard of 'horses' asses',
that shows how popular we are.
A horse is, everywhere, a star......'
'But Sire', interjects the frog,
I am just like a vital cog,
without me, bugs would take control,
that's why all creatures play a role.'
The mare regarded him with pity,
' You do not grasp the nitty-gritty,
I do not mind your bulging eyes,
but in this life, what counts is size! '
They talked some more, but in a while
the frog was tasting bitter bile
inside his gallic apparatus.
But when the mare let out a flatus
it was too much of condescension.
And, rapidly, now grew the tension.
An oak tree who had lived nearby
since Julius Ceasar said good-bye
had overheard this harsh exchange,
suggested that he could arrange
a resolution to enable
both animals within this fable
to make their peace without delay,
as oak trees always find a way.
So, in the shadow of the tree
they let their bygones bygone be.
The oak had told them that 'with age
one gradually discards their rage.
And green turns brown, and brown turns gray
and all of that is quite okay.
But that the wisdom of the ages
occurs reluctantly, in stages,
and that no creature can be free
until they reach old age like me.'
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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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
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Frog
Every frog must croak
That is no joke
Agile is the lowly frog
Eating insects, leaving bugs, mosquitoes agog
They live in water, slime, gook
Ugly, ugly face of a spook
Green, gray or brown, they populate the ground
Frog legs are sold and eaten by the pound
Jump, glide around, sit still
Croak often, loud and shrill
Water is the key to their life
They procreate, sleep, avoid danger, strife
Little or big they struggle to survive
Even a frog is happy to be alive
Some become road kill
Or a snake's belly they fill
They have lived, they have died
Some rot, some are fried
Dissected in the lab by a sharp knife
Warts and all, a vital link in the chain of life
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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Frog Sees Tara
A small and green but drunken frog
sat in the evening on his log.
He contemplated there on life
and wished he had a green frog wife.
He'd interviewd a thousand frogs,
kept diaries and detailed logs.
But never did he find the one
who'd rest all day out in the sun
and dream with him at night in bed
so this green frog was never wed.
One day he saw, down near the trees
a British subject. What a tease!
She was a trifle big but, well,
we cannot all live in a shell.
She chatted with the folks and then
there was a silence among men.
They looked at her, so did the frog
he sat, quite drunken, on his log.
He dreamed that if he ever were...
this was the girl. If frogs could purr! ! !
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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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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I Get Wet Because Im Dry
It’s cold and dark everywhere
The clouds kissed the mountains near
The hungry rivers are shouting and swelling
Help! The grassland is drowning
The dampen bird ceased to fly
An old horse prayed to calm the sky
In the other end, there’s the disgusted mare
The frog’s endless cry she claimed to beauty is bare
The angry thunder in heavens begun to roar
But the lighting is quick and warned to moor
To the overly drunk trees in the forest
Hold tight the dampen bird to your chest!
The night falls but of no distinction
The day’s sun is as dark as the midnight moon
But in the gloom, a circle of light appeared
It’s from a hungry feline’s eyes dazzled red
Hours, days, nights, weeks, birds, frogs, horse passed
Oh dear, the torment has ultimately stopped
The dampen birds found hope and start to hop
The old horse hugs the mare and slashes the loop
Sadly, no singing frog welcomed the new day
Because the hungry cat ended his song instantly
And the mare slept well all that night
The next morning is a goodbye to the bird’s faraway flight.
poem by Ayi Escalona
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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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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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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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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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A Frog
There stands upon a leaf,
A tiny frog,
With yellow skin,
And large round eyes,
In search of insects-food!
The little frog can camouflage,
And appear dead,
Or look like flowers,
To escape foes,
And predators that strike.
Like energized spring-box,
The frog can leap;
The frog can fly;
The frog won’t fall,
As they hold on
To weeds and stalks of plants.
Oh, what a queer Amphibian
Are frogs born free!
Some are big too;
Their tongues are long,
And so sticky;
They flick it out and catch their prey.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-12-2008
poem by John Celes
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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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Proud to be a frog
I am proud to be a frog, though I know not why.
The green of my skin, so utterly devine;
as to what others say, (to which I am blind)
'You are proud to be a frog, though we do not know why'.
To look at the toad or turtle, they are a shame.
They are slow and weak, their legs poorly shaped.
If you dare to look closely at the great frog race;
we are quick and spry, objects of envious hate.
To the toad that is brown or the newt that is orange.
Their ugliness is a disgrace, no more than a sore;
and as to what I say, (to frogs it is right)
'We are proud to be frogs, all apart must die! '
poem by Shirow Walker
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Poetry Practice (Kids)
I have a little brown-eyed horse
it bites me from behind,
shows neither mercy nor remorse
I wish my horse were kind.
I have a little blue-eyed goat
he lies and steals from me
last week he stole my paddleboat
and took it out to sea.
I have a little green-eyed frog
he slept inside my bed,
I should have left him in the log
because he now is dead.
I know an ugly-eyed, obese
and sniffling ball of slime,
it's swinging in the evening breeze
a happy unsolved crime.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Plum's Destiny
A little plum dropped from the tree
and struck a frog upon his knee.
The frog did hurt and cried a lot
the plum said Oops, I plum forgot.
Which wasn't altogether true
you see a plum is always blue
a frog however must be green
thus he can easily be seen.
So, folks, it truly stands to reason
that in the Fall, the ripening season
a bit of care would be advised
that way a frog is not surprised.
In any case, the knee did swell
the plum just stayed right where it fell,
so in an effort now to heal
the frog fell for the plum appeal.
He grabbed the plum and opened wide
the plum prepared for its last ride.
And said before it was too late
a plum is to be eaten, mate.
So, you can see that those that fall
from trees or buildings, big and tall
will usually just fail to see
the maker of their destiny.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Gullible, The Bear
A Dachshund who was long of hair
met in the forest an old bear.
The bear was sitting on a log
and held in his huge paws a frog.
The hound adored all frogs and toads
and always scanned the fields and roads
for something green that blended in,
it gave him a contented grin.
'What did you have in mind, Big Bear? '
Hound asked, his voice now full of flair.
'Frog legs', the bear said, 'are for me,
my snack to have with the green tea.'
'How could you eat the spark of life? !
He may have children and a wife!
Do you not know, you big bad mug
that I could make from you a rug? '
He spoke, as Dachshunds are so prone
as if the subject were a bone,
then showed his teeth, let out a growl
which then alerted Mrs. Owl.
'Oh, yes', said Mrs.Owl, 'it's true,
a hound can really finish you.
So let the frog go home I say,
that way, your hide will be okay! '
The bear looked at the frog and then
down to the dog and counted ten.
He did not need a bad surprise
and knew that owls are very wise.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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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.
Roger Renfroe-Jones Kincaid
The meanest boy in all fourth grade
Is Roger Renfroe-Jones Kincaid.
He's meaner than a junkyard dog.
He's meaner than my sister's frog.
My sister's frog ate my friend, Brown,
When all Brown did was fly around,
And land on top the frog's dumb head.
Brown licked his wings and 'THWACK! ' was dead.
My sister calls her frog Boo Bear;
Though he's a frog and not a bear.
But bears get mean when they're afraid,
Like Roger Renfroe-Jones Kincaid.
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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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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