A Frog In My Pocket
I have my friend frog,
in my pocket tucked away.
Because if my mother sees him,
she won't let him stay.
He smells like the fish gut,
I have on my hands.
We both need a bath,
and our feet's full of sand.
In a bath full of bubbles,
I splash and I play,
knowing my friend,
is hidden away.
Green bubbles squish
between my toes,.
Green bubbles splash
right up my nose.
Climbing out of the tub,
I look for my clothes.
Oh, no! She has taken them.
My Mother, she knows!
I hear the swish, swish, swish,
of our washing machine.
Then, my frog leaps out,
Clorox clean!
Now the green soap bubbles
are out of my nose,
and my wrinkled, white frog,
smells like a pink rose!
Copyright © Darlene Gifford | Year Posted 2014
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