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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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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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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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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The Friendship Of The Frogs
this the picture of a green frog
with big rolling eyes
like a golf ball
it floats on a lily leaf
beside it a big yellow lily flower
the waters ripple
it is a happy frog of friendship
that my friends sent me an hour ago
and my friend wants it back
in a minute
to assure
that i still want her back
i am thinking like a slimy frog.
shall i send it back or not?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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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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.
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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Frog 1 and Frog 2
Frog 2
Hey, how’s that in the water?
I saw you dive in
and the water spread out a little;
you disappeared a while
and now I see you translucent
but you seem happy
as carefree
as when we were tadpoles;
tell me how it is…
Frog 1
You silly frog;
all the description
and text I can give you
all words and expositions will not suffice:
just jump in and see for yourself
poem by Raj Arumugam
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The Frog and the Lion
A LITTLE FROG WENT OUT ONE DAY
TO HAVE A FROGGIE WALK,
HE SAW A LION ON HIS WAY
AND STOPPED TO HAVE A TALK.
AND THEN THE LION SAID TO HIM,
THERE’S FLIES UPON MY BACK,
AND I AM FEELING PRETTY GRIM
WHILE STANDING IN THIS TRACK.
SO IF YOU CLIMB ABOARD MY FRIEND,
YOU’LL HAVE A LOVELY FEED,
I’LL FLICK MY TAIL SO I CAN SEND
THE FLIES TO FILL YOUR NEED.
SO FROGGIE CLIMED ON LION’S BACK
AND ATE AND ATE AND ATE,
AND LION STOOD UPON THE TRACK
TO WAIT AND WAIT AND WAIT.
ONE DAY LION LOOKED AT FROG
AND SAW HIS EYES WERE DIM,
THEN LET HIM DOWN INTO THE BOG
SO HE COULD HAVE A SWIM.
AND THEN THE FROG CAME BACK AGAIN
THE LION TO ATTEND.
HE CLIMBED BACK IN THE LIONS MANE,
THE LION WAS HIS FRIEND.
AS TIME WENT BY THE FROG GOT FAT.
AND LION WAITED ON.
THEN FROG WAS EATEN BY THAT CAT,
AND SO THE FROG WAS GONE.
THE FROGGIE IN THE LION,
JUST SCHRIVLED RIGHT AWAY.
THE FROG WAS FULL OF POISON.
THE LION DIED THAT DAY.
THE MORAL OF THIS STORY.
IS TWOFOLD, LISTEN ON.
JUST BE VERY CAREFULL,
BEFORE YOUR DAYS ARE GONE.
CHOOSE YOU VERY WISELY
THE FRIENDS WITH WHOM YOU GREET.
AND DON’T BE LIKE THE LION.
BE CAREFULL WHAT YOU EAT
poem by George Savige
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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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Frog-Making
Said Frog papa to Frog mamma,
'Where is our little daughter?'
Said Frog mamma to Frog papa,
'She's underneath the water.'
Then down the anxious father went,
And there, indeed, he found her,
A-tickling tadpoles, till they kicked
Their tails off all around her.
poem by John Bannister Tabb
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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 Frog and the Fly
One day a frog woke up,
To see to his delight,
That the swampy bogs were swarming
With flies beyond his sight.
He snuck up on one surprisingly fat
And crouched down very low,
Then flicked his tongue as the paw of a cat,
But missed and caught his toe!
Now, this was not a normal frog, like those who give up fast.
No, this was a very clever frog, and liked to put it in his past.
So he tried again once more
To get the little flies,
But these black little balls of germs
Have 200 eyes!
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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Fly frog
Frog swimming
To try for fly...
Fish was asking frog
'Why you did want to fly...? '
Frog say
'I am was born on tommrow
A bird...so...
I was try to fly...'
Fish was hahaaaaa
Loug lot...
'Frog take care
Try too fly...'
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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A Frog Named Jo
It must be nice, being a frog on the side of the road.
At least you are more appealing than a toad.
You sit in the grass that matches your jade scales
It seems as though flies fly to you, compelled
To be your delicacy, to be eaten.
And the flies appear gladly beaten.
And all seems in this natural scene
So peaceful and so serene,
And in our cruel world, that is what we see,
‘How Happy ore' others some can be'
But the point that we miss in all of this beauty,
Is that the world is not just for ‘me'
I may have my hard times, and so will you
But somewhere else in the world, someone is suffering too.
Now, as we leave this simple frog to its seeming life of bliss,
We don't ever look back, for it is not something to miss.
This frog had no connection to you
So why should you care what next it will do?
From this place, the frog could be snatched up by a bat
It will feed the bat family, and that will be that.
For some object of little acknowledgement from you
Is now something permanently lost from view.
But that frog could have had a family of its own;
A life, friends, a job, a home.
It seems foolish to think of these characteristics of a frog on the street,
But is it just as foolish as thinking of the people you meet?
All day long, many lives collide,
But we make sure to stand to the side.
In life, we never know what will come next,
All we can do is give every moment our best.
poem by Heidi Fiore
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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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