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The Frog Prince - Part 1
A funny frog called Mr Snog, once lived beside a slimy bog, he was a most peculiar fellow, his hat was red, his boots were yellow, his waistcoat was an olive green, the strangest sight you’ve ever seen, no matter where you’ve lived or been. This self-same frog, called Mr Snog had woes of every catalogue. To move forward he hopped backward, making life extremely awkward. His funny face with fretful frown made him such a comic clown, for his whole world was upside down. Now once the frog, named Mr Snog, who lived beside the slimy bog, had been a very different fellow, his boots then red, his hat was yellow. A handsome prince of some renown, upon his head a golden crown, and nothing then was upside down. For then his name, was not the same, around his realm they would proclaim; ‘He is the bold, the great Prince Gons, whose fame is sung in many songs.’ In everything he did excel, gallant, witty, brave as well, until misfortune him befell. Alas to say, in early May, a witch had happened by his way. She really was a hideous hag, and nasty things were in her bag. An eye of newt, a puppy’s tail, six slimy slugs and half a snail, some grizzly bits to make you quail. Prince Gons had rode from his abode, to find this witch had blocked his road, ‘Out of my way you wretched bag, out of my way you ugly hag. I am the bold, the great Prince Gons, whose fame is sung in many songs, to whom this land around belongs.’ With such disdain he did proclaim, the exalted nature of his name! He stared, he glared, he leered and peered, upon that witch that looked so weird, ‘Out of my way, or you’ll pay dear.’ Yet not one word did cause her fear, for being deaf, she could not hear. But from his look she umbrage took, and so that witch resolved to cook, within her pot a fiendish brew, to teach that prince a thing or two. And setting out to cast a spell, by calling demons out of hell, she brewed a stew - with ghastly smell. This stew she threw – it didn’t miss! – all over Gons. Then with a kiss, upon his face - oh what a joke - she vanished in a puff of smoke! Gons then had a nasty feeling, round and round the sky was wheeling, sending all his senses reeling. When he awoke, this self-same bloke, could only make a feeble croak. And to his horror he now found, that everything had turned around, shrunk to a frog, whose name was Snog, who sat bemused within a bog, with woes of every catalogue. Within this bog, there was a log, and on this log, sat Mr Snog, gazing mournfully at the sky, eyeing all that passed him by. From time to time he’d try to speak, with feeble croak, so sad, so weak, his life just then was really bleak. When meaning ‘Yes’ - as you might guess - was not the word he did express. Instead of ‘Yes’, he would croak ‘No!’ All were confused and all said so, but if, perhaps, you knew him better, you could substitute each letter, and then it really wouldn’t matter. Moving backward, never forward, made his life extremely awkward. Now who could help him, who could tell him, how to break that witch's spell? He flopped around within the mire, never growing one inch higher, until a meeting did transpire. One sunny day in early May, a princess chanced to pass that way, her hair was gold, her figure neat, she walked upon such dainty feet. that now squelched in the murky mire, nearly ruining her attire, her situation was quite dire. Just for a laugh, she'd left the path, to cut her journey quite in half, she was sure it would be quicker, she was sure that she was slicker, than her nasty little brother, who’d said, ‘Race you home to mother.’ - How they hated one another! While she was stuck within the muck, bemoaning all her rotten luck, She then perceived this curious fellow, whose hat was red and boots were yellow, it was our hero Mr Snog, every inch a funny frog, sitting gormless on a log. ‘Help, help,’ she cried . ‘I'm terrified I’m really lost, I need a guide, to take me from this murky mire, that's totally ruined my attire. Please help me now. I'm sure you know, how from this place, the way to go.’ But Snog, when meaning ‘Yes’, croaked ‘No!’. She was confused, she was bemused, that this odd creature had refused, to help her in her hour of need. 'What can I say, how shall I plead?' She pondered so, then filled with woe, wept, ‘Won’t you show the way to go?’ But Snog, whilst thinking ‘Yes’, croaked ‘No!’ ‘I implore you, I'll adore you, something, anything I’ll do for you. just name your price, I know the king, he’ll give you almost everything. Oh please don't leave me in distress, oh please don't leave me in this mess.’ Alas, our hero just croaked, ‘Yes!’ First she shivered, then she quivered, then finally, she grew quite livid. She screamed at this outrageous fellow, whose hat was red and boots were yellow, ‘You are the most obnoxious frog, to leave me helpless in this bog, to wander aimless in the fog.’ Then on a whim, she grabbed a limb, with all her strength she hurtled him, high into the silvery sky, wondering if this frog might fly. But as she flipped him, her foot tripped, upon her back our princess tipped, into the slimy mire she slipped. Our hero, Snog, was quite agog, for being airborne, for a frog, was a most extraordinary feeling, sending all his senses reeling. The sky and earth became a blur; falling now he did not miss her, landing on her open kisser! Now, as she fell, she’d given a yell, which helped to break that witch's spell. For when she kissed the hapless Snog, it changed him back from being a frog, and to a prince he now returned, who sat there looking unconcerned. whilst in the slimy mire she squirmed.
Copyright © 2021 David Furlong. All Rights Reserved