Famous Short Frog Poems

Famous Short Frog Poems. Short Frog Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Frog short poems

I'm nobody! Who are you?  

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us -- don't tell!
They'd advertise -- you know!

How dreary to be somebody!
How public like a frog
To tell one's name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

An old silent pond..  

An old silent pond...
A frog jumps into the pond,
splash! Silence again. 

The Frog  

 Be kind and tender to the Frog,
And do not call him names,
As "Slimy skin," or "Polly-wog,"
Or likewise "Ugly James,"
Or "Gap-a-grin," or "Toad-gone-wrong,"
Or "Bill Bandy-knees":
The Frog is justly sensitive
To epithets like these.

No animal will more repay
A treatment kind and fair;
At least so lonely people say
Who keep a frog (and, by the way,
They are extremely rare).

Frog Autumn  

 Summer grows old, cold-blooded mother. 
The insects are scant, skinny. 
In these palustral homes we only 
Croak and wither. 

Mornings dissipate in somnolence. 
The sun brightens tardily 
Among the pithless reeds. Flies fail us. 
he fen sickens. 

Frost drops even the spider. Clearly 
The genius of plenitude 
Houses himself elsewhwere. Our folk thin 
Lamentably.

Frog The  

 Be kind and tender to the Frog,
And do not call him names,
As "Slimy skin," or "Polly-wog,"
Or likewise "Ugly James,"
Or "Gap-a-grin," or "Toad-gone-wrong,"
Or "Bill Bandy-knees":
The Frog is justly sensitive
To epithets like these.

No animal will more repay
A treatment kind and fair;
At least so lonely people say
Who keep a frog (and, by the way,
They are extremely rare).

A huge frog and I  

 A huge frog and I,
staring at each other,
neither of us moves.

Mary Had A Little Frog  

 Mary had a little frog
 And it was water-soaked,
But Mary did not keep it long
 Because, of course, it croaked!

D D was Papas white Duck  

D
 D was Papa's white Duck,Who had a curly tail; One day it ate a great fat frog,Besides a leetle snail. 

Brooding Grief  

 A yellow leaf from the darkness 
Hops like a frog before me. 
Why should I start and stand still? 

I was watching the woman that bore me 
Stretched in the brindled darkness
Of the sick-room, rigid with will 
To die: and the quick leaf tore me 
Back to this rainy swill 
Of leaves and lamps and traffic mingled before me.

His Mansion in the Pool  

 His Mansion in the Pool
The Frog forsakes --
He rises on a Log
And statements makes --
His Auditors two Worlds
Deducting me --
The Orator of April
Is hoarse Today --
His Mittens at his Feet
No Hand hath he --
His eloquence a Bubble
As Fame should be --
Applaud him to discover
To your chagrin
Demosthenes has vanished
In Waters Green --

The long sigh of the Frog  

 The long sigh of the Frog
Upon a Summer's Day
Enacts intoxication
Upon the Revery --
But his receding Swell
Substantiates a Peace
That makes the Ear inordinate
For corporal release --

There was an old man in a Marsh  

There was an old man in a Marsh,Whose manners were futile and harsh;He sate on a log, and sang songs to a frog,That instructive old man in a Marsh.