If only I could love a frog
Maybe my dreams would all come true
And then my hairy suitors who
Come calling, I could give the dog.
If only I could hug and squeeze
That nasty thing, with bulbous eyes
And funny skin, that we despise,
That scares and causes us unease.
A frog, you see, is not a thing
That readily endears itself
To man nor beast, unless its wealth
Is double that of duke or king.
Then are its charms so evident
That everybody shouts 'A star!
He is the smartest frog by far!
He is a frog quite provident!
'His monocle is such a whizz,
His ear-ring a true spectacle,
His talk quite dialectical,
There is no banter quite like his.
'He is a very prodigy,
A frog of wit and boundless sense,
He makes us laugh, his talk is dense,
Replete with anthropology.
'I cannot say I ever met
A frog of such great intellect
He is a very architect
Of monumental stature, yet
'He's modest to a point, what's more,
Can speak three languages outright.
His eye, so quick, so keen, so bright
Can pierce a person to the core.
'You won't believe how quick he is
In catching flies and fish and worms
I cannot really find the terms
To list the talents that are his.'
Alas, the frog can go his ways,
His wealth, though great is not enough,
His stocks and shares and all that stuff
Do not suffice, though they amaze
The poorer sort. I am not such;
My needs are hypothetical,
And sometimes mathematical;
What's more, I cannot bear his touch.
- Author: tundrol ( Offline)
- Published: March 17th, 2020 08:59
- Comment from author about the poem: The frog, of course, might always turn out to be a prince, and vice versa. PS he sends his love and kisses to everybody.
- Category: Humor
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: Echo Seeker
Comments1
Sorry T i'm going to burst this bubble with one name.... kermit!
Ah, yes. I was forgetting about the modern world. I am working on sixteenth century texts at the moment, which probably explains my obsession with sonnets and the like. The closest I have been to the twentieth century recently is Edward Lear and Lewis Carroll.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.