Best Frog Poems
Forever
Rely
On
God
Faith is serving the lambs
Righteousness, right in God's eyes
Order and obedience to His commands
Grace and goodness shall lead to salvation
The frog croaked
The cricket chirped
The cricket croaked
The frog burped
the princess and frog
he hid in the flowerpot
her father said no
11/03/2018
Sun :) A-L Andresen :)
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howmanysyllables.com
5-7-5
3rd place in the contest
Poem of the Week : 18.03.2018
The wind of Thor
Drives monsoon rain
To frogs delight.
a lime green tree frog
clings tightly to a bare branch --
butterfly kisses
Croakers symphony
await the rainy season
a horny toad calls
A burst of thunder
rain coming down in torrents
a mating frenzy
lily pads submerge
fertile eggs slowly sinking
fish come for the feast
new generations
await symphonic debut
a raindrop splashes
By: Joseph May
A springtime fawn found a placid pond and knelt down for a drink.
She bent her knees into the mud,
And placed her velveted chin
parallel to the pond
and the dawn found
the edge of the earth.
The touch of the fawn’s
Mouth made the water wake.
(and all things in it).
And as she drank,
the orchestra played the pond-song play.
The whole pond awoke to the sound of the little, lapping,
fawn’s tongue-song.
A tadpole was freed and ...Swam in the song.
He surfaced.
Greened in the dawn.
And surprised the fawn.
He saddled her sweet new nose
With his bright green clothes.
And she sneezed him
Aloft a red virgin rose.
aerodynamics
gosh...how can I explain this
to a flying frog
--------------------------------
A Frog Haiku Contest by Mick Talbot
Placed 2nd
14 March 2018
There was a fiddler. How he loved to play!
He had two sons. In wooden shoes they’d clog
while he would fiddle, and his little dog
would prance with them! They didn’t always stay
inside their little shack, for sometimes they
would go out to the porch. There was a frog
who’d come to visit them and all agog,
that frog would watch the merry group all day.
The frog was fond of music, so he’d croak
the fiddler’s tune in singing froggy style.
The fiddler and his sons would laugh and joke
to hear the frog sing for them all the while.
The hopping frog danced with the dog and folk.
“By gosh,” they said, “that frog’s sure versatile!”
Jan. 23, 2023
for The Fiddler And The Frog Poetry Contest of Craig Cornish
For Brian Strand's Contest begun Feb. 12,2023
my pad or your pad
croons the frog to his lady. . .
prince charming awaits
March 12, 2018 for Mick Talbot's Haiku contest: theme "frog"
There was an old bull frog from Cork
Whose friends might've thought him a dork
But when flies would swarm in
And they all took a swim
Old frog used his tongue like a fork.
For Limerick Contest
04/11/2018
3rd. Place
Lunch as an insect in the fog
Flying in a swamp by a log
For a starving toad
Though surely he's slowed
To a speedy tongue of a frog
Okay, I'm unserious today, no...in all seriousity I was daydreaming about bullschitt and wondered if it was 'produced' by bulls or bull frogs or even bull sharks and realized that it was magnificently manufactured in my own daydreams which are (everyone's a victim, even me) the result of all the human bullschitt I've been exposed to of late...OF LATE...no, even B4 all of this crap (synonym?) was dumped (another uncomfortable thought) upon my struggling soul...where was I...OH! So here's an unserious poem to lighten the load (no pun) sic...
Freddie the Frog (sorry, the bull frogs only have a supporting role)
Freddie the frog with the lopsided hop
would travel in circles 'til he tired and stopped,
then jumped into the pond with a giant kerplop
as the bullfrogs laughed and croaked 'til they dropped.
It mattered not where Freddie was bound,
even when swimming he went round and round -
amongst all the pollywogs he was renowned
for going and going and not gaining ground.
Poor Freddie had no trouble just staying busy
but circling and circling made him so dizzy;
he lived in a pond he never could cross
but one thing's for sure, he never got lost.
So no matter your problems, or where you start,
you'll always get home if you just trust your heart!
A nod to Theodor Geisel
Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh, my.
Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh why?
Lions and Tigers and Bears are not really all that scary to me,
When we read the facts about other animals in tropical forests, and under the sea.
We should change the song to this little tune:
Puffer Fish, Golden poison dart frog and the tsetse fly, oh my.
Puffer Fish, Golden poison dart frog and the tsetse fly, oh why?
These little creatures are as scary as the cone snail which is no cartoon.
The cone snail has a hypodermic-like needle with venom, shaped like a harpoon.
So if you see a cone shell, on a beautiful beach,
Remind yourself it may be alive, before you reach.
If you are in a rain forest, and you see the cutest little golden frog hopping through,
Know before you pocket it that it weighs less than an ounce, but has enough poison to kill you.
The golden poison dart frog could take you out, and nine of your favorite fellow travelers too.
The toxin, which comes out of her sweet little skin,
could show you all what a mood she is in.
The puffer fish is clumsy, and slow, and cannot readily hide.
But his toxins are more deadly than twelve hundred spoons of cyanide.
Lions, tigers, and bear, oh my.
Better them than the puffer fish, golden dart frog, cone snail, and the tsetse fly.
He treats me like a Princess,
And calls himself the frog prince,
Though really on the outside,
Hes just as beautiful as within,
He calls me his Goddess,
And makes himself my slave,
But if I had a to pick a word,
Id say he was my Greek God, my King,
He massages my feet,
When the day has been long,
And whispers in my ears,
The sweetest little songs,
He tells me I cant beat him,
And then pretends that I can win,
The stars sparkel in his eyes,
And the sun glows on his skin,
He makes me smile,
Like ive never smiled before,
He makes my heart erratic,
And tries to hand me the world,
His lips are soft heavens,
His hands are carressing hells,
I cant stand the thought,
Without almost crying out,
He makes me feel amazing,
And we've never once had sex,
He doesnt want to till he feels im ready,
Even though I know im ready for him,
He respects my body,
And respects my mind,
He respects my feelings,
I think for once im not wasting my time,
He buys me all these presents,
Though I always tell him "Dont",
He treats me like a Queen,
And I treat him like himself,
He finds a million pet names,
And he's perfect for my heart,
We fight and always make up,
And he only wants me for himself,
Im happy and im giddy,
He turns me into such a girl,
I could go on forever,
And never finish all my words,
He calls me his Princess,
and thats exactly what I am,
He's my King, my baby,
and will always be my man...