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The Devil's Polliwog

As a carefree youth, I did roam, 'til I took this thing home. 'Twas in a puddle by a log - the devil's polliwog. To you, I will gladly confess, it made my life a mess. It never turned into a frog - the devil's polliwog. I'd snap like an old rubber band, but, on the other hand, my sink, it will always unclog, the devil's polliwog.

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Hilda Greenhough

Date: 11/25/2024 2:53:00 PM

This poem holds my interest. I missed out on these terrible polliwogs. You seem to have been an animal collector.

David Crandall
Date: 11/25/2024 6:50:00 PM

When I was a kid, I found some polliwogs in a puddle in the nearby riverbed, put them in a bucket and took them home. I guess they didn't need great care, because they grew into frogs which hopped around our house. I also used to catch frogs on our family camping trips, because I was bored with fishing.