Best Toad Poems
"The fables always recount the same ode.
Every woman dreams of a prince charming
Who is the fruit of a kiss on a toad.
Their sudden love will never stop burning.
Who bets on such a metamorphosis?
Faith of batrachian! It's foolishness!
No pretty lady wants to put a kiss
On a petty frog to find happiness.
If she were existing; pure happenstance
Only at the right dusk, at the right dew.
Only at the right dawn, at the right dance.
Love is not for me. This is what is true."
So spoke an old toad until the last hour
Before a kiss fell, sweet like a flower.
I've never kissed a toad,
or lived a fairytale,
or seen a spouting whale.
I'm silent as a road,
or where Euphrates flowed
when Moses made the veil.
I've borne the greatest minds
the Father ever made;
each one with care was laid
where common folks could find
each ancient treasure's kind.
Some left, but others stayed.
A tall library shelf,
I'm trapped within myself.
Theme for collaboration suggested by Tim Smith
Two enormous old toads crossed the road
On Tom’s back lounged Thomasina toad
Both are ugly and warty
Thomasina’s so naughty
As her bowels on his back she’d download
06-16-17
WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON
When Thomasina toad dumped on old Tom
He thought her poop explosion was a bomb
He hopped in the air
gave her a mean stare
shouting, "I'm not taking you home to Mom!"
WRITTEN BY LIN LANE
Ribbit rubbit robbit 'n ro
this crazy toad has got to go
She's turning quite mean -
Fifty shades of green
No time to chat but still does crow
WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH
"Why don't we do it in the road?"
Said Thomas, the old horny toad
Thomasina hissed,
"Get a load of this!"
and a "blessing" on him bestowed
WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
Thomasina was on a road trip
Her taxi was Tom's back she'd grip
But she strained as she held
And her bottom expelled
So she said "I've just left you a tip"
WRITTEN BY RAY GRIDLEY
Tom and Thomasina were the perfect pair
They were ancient toads without a care
He had a huge wart
She gives a mean fart
Anyone in her vicinity better beware!
WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y
Now Tom was an over achiever
He wanted the lady, not leave her
He sprayed his back with Scotch-Guard
and rubbed down with lots of lard
the dumper was now the receiver
WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART
Tom gave Thomasina the boot
Got sick from the smell of her poot
told her to get lost
right after he tossed
She gave him the one finger salute
WRITTEN BY DANIEL TURNER
Thomas and Thomasina loved to hear
the waterboatmen rubbing their gear
Thomas tried and started to croak
causing Thomasina to choke
you two will never get it right I fear
WRITTEN BY SEREN ROBERTS
When T'sina hopped on for a ride
Old Thomas reminded his bride,
"Though you're my sweet dish,
on the road we'll get squished",
"Just do it!" was her terse reply.
WRITTEN BY CRAIG CORNISH
Thomasina and Tom a heavy load
Lingered a little too long on the road
He could have kissed her all night
shocked at the oncoming lights
Croak and ribbit was heard; two flattened toads
WRITTEN BY EVE ROPER
PLEASE SOUP MAIL ME ANY SUBMISSIONS FOR THE COLLABORATION
06-16-17
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
One morning Dee woke to find the most unusual toad
Perched o’er the water line in the “bowels” of her commode
She put on gloves and sought to catch the elusive creature
But no matter how hard Dee tried, she just couldn’t reach her
So to the local newspaper, Dee wrote for assistance
A letter to the editor described Dee’s persistence
To her shock, the letter appeared the very next day
With her email below it for helpful hints to convey
Nearly seventy emails made their way to Dee’s inbox
Suggestions aplenty on how this critter to outfox
Some offered to come to Dee’s house and catch the motley toad
A biologist warned, “It can’t swim; don’t flush the commode!”
Dee lived very privately and wanted no strange house guests
So she declined “in-person” offers to pursue this quest
By day the toad managed to slip out of Dee’s gentle grasp
At night Dee reached for a toothbrush, felt a slithery clasp
The toad she called Todd was quickly escorted out the door
Although the potential for warts, Dee certainly abhorred
Newspaper staff got a kick out of Dee’s predicament
They called the next day to find out how her efforts had went
To all of the kind emailers Dee wrote of her success
But the public’s interest Dee was unable to suppress
So she wrote another letter, proclaiming, “The toad’s gone”
Concern for this toad was a noteworthy phenomenon
Beneath Dee’s letter describing Todd’s new outdoor abode
Was a cartoon and an ode to the toad in her commode
*Believe it or not, this is true!!! Happened to me when I lived in a wooded area.
A helpful biologist said it was a "tree toad" and couldn't swim.
A toad
On a road
Squashed
The ford squished the toad
Gods wheels made the devil implode
Dreams seeping into the sun
Travelers
No idea the death they created
The toad
Now was rotting on the road
Death saved humanity
The toad was a loathsome load
Of vile spittle
Of spiteful dribble
Tribble and vitriol
The toad was a seeker
He found his destiny
As road kill
Gods will
I once met a toad who thought he was man
Now that fairy tale I can understand
I heard of a man who thought he was toad
Now really, such high sights he might implode
Man or Toad, his brain is fuzzy
He doesn’t grasp metaphoric or funny
He trolls and thinks he’s something else
Sure, most think he’s a prancing elf
With his book of grammar and holy words
Off he goes to his unpublished world
Notes
As some of you have seen, I seem to have a cyber bully/troll whatever you call them, after me. It’s both sad and serves no purpose, however he seems bent on telling deceptions and lies, and whether this is lack of education or knowledge, or he lacks the subtle nuances of the English language it matters not. I actually don’t mind but his actions however they are repeated many times on others. That a grown man over fifty acts this way is both amusing and somewhat sad. Actually very very sad.
The utmost irony is when you see a master troll writing poems about himself. I would hope one day he focuses more on his own self improvement. That anyone hitches their wagon to his sad tail is also truly sad, there is simply too much positive in this world to bother with Trumpites like him
Purple twilight darkens the day.
A green tree frog jumps embracing
an ashen bark. His eyes open
to silence, as it stares within
inches of a small flickering,
iridescent lightning bug:
as it brightens up the night.
I am mesmerized and amazed
as I watch the green tree frog jump,
gripping the tree bark as it throws
its sticky tongue out of its mouth
and wraps it around its fragile
prey capturing and swallowing it.
As the tree frog creeps away from
its moment stay, a colorful
yellowish-orange aglow turns
us cold. The lighting bug glowing
as bright as the sunlight from the
inside of the tree frog was still alive.
I didn't realize how harsh truth
can be. Looking closely into
our world, understand that there are
still many things in the world that
can surprise us.
7/5/2018
Poetry Contest: Quirky Things That Confound and Confuse Me
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
There was a fussy old toad, yes; some might call him, a curmudgeon, at soul.
When his ladylove died, he took it in stride, and sought someone else to pester.
Eventually, he came to our lake, and jumped on the Troll Bridge, quite blazon.
Trouble in his eyes, he met the trolls, eye for eye, and with strength, blustered.
“I’m King of the Hill”, he spat out, ignoring the clubs and frowns… all about.
Grandpa Troll looked at the toad, and got ready to do battle, quickly…at that.
I chimed in, “They’re renters my dear. You’ll have to fight me, it’s clear. So dropout.”
“And I’m too worn out, for a silly old toad, who jumps like a gnat, now, scat.”
“I’ll have this bridge”, he said, “I’ll fight you anywhere, so be very, greatly, prepared.”
“I’m worn-out”, I said, “But battle we will. I’ll win! So look where you tread, instead.”
I said,“You challenged me first, so I’ll pick the test, you’ll play Grandpa Troll at Chess”.
Amazement filled the toads eyes, but to my surprise, he took the bait. Rather smart.
Now Grandpa Troll is a whittler. “I’ll commission your own home bridge, if he loses.”
“At the end of the lake, you’ll have a home place. If you lose, you’ll learn to whittle!”
The old toad looked me over, and with a frown, then ask, “What good is whittling?”
“You could make a chess board like no other, Toads verses Trolls, in war forever!”
He agreed that was quite a stake! And knew he couldn’t lose, the old reprobate!
Still he haggled, to strike a better bargain, and he Hee Hawed around for more.
Now, Grandpa Troll had never lost a game. Still we upped the ante, just the same.
“If you lose, I’ll build you a home bridge… if you teach the youngun’s, chess, instead.”
Now, he was sold! So off they did go, playing chess and whittling, by the seasons.
You know, I’m trying to be a writer, but the interruptions seem to always get harder!
So as you can see… With situations and things such as these …
I’ll just have to keep trying harder, and harder…
I caught a big toad
For my science practical exam
But it gave me pain!
WITH THE SUNLIGHT ON MY FACE,
WHLE WALKING DOWN THE ROAD,
AS I LOOKED DOWN I SAW HIM,
WHO WAS IT, MISTER TOAD.
HE LOOKED AT ME WITH SOULFUL EYES,
AND ASKED IF I WOULD CATCH HIM FLIES,
SO I DID BUT AS TIME WENT ON,
I LOOKED AROUND, THE FLIES WERE GONE.
HE SAID THANKS AND HOPPED AWAY,
I WILL SEEE YOU AGAIN ANOTHER DAY,
BUT THEN I HEARD AN AWFUL SPLAT,
THEN I SAW HIM OH SO FLAT.
A CAR WENT BY,
ON DOWN THE ROAD,
OH WELL,
SO MUCH FOR MISTER TOAD.
A frog went on a day trip to a pond just down the road, where he met up with his friend, Ribbity the Toad.
They found their favourite lily pad and hopped up side by side and called the taxi fish to hail them for a ride.
They went right in to the middle to where tadpoles sold ice-cream and newts were selling tickets for a concert at the stream.
Toad had had too much dessert and felt a little icky. Frog had dripped it down his front and made himself quite sticky.
They hopped in to the water to swim and cool off a bit, then climbed out on to the bank to find somewhere to sit.
They talked about the weather and the kids were doing at school and the latest people living at the Grand Lakeside Hall.
Frog had brought a picnic of barbeque flavoured slugs and they bought fresh maggots with honey coated bugs.
They shared a bottle of pond weed wine and some chocolate and fly cake, which Mrs. Toad that very morning, had kindly said she’d make.
They said that they’d buy tickets to the comedy show tonight and asked directions to the booth; straight down and then turn right.
The pair sat and laughed their way through a very funny man who told them that his name was Frogosauras Stan.
He did dinosaur impressions, which is hard in summer heat. Frog and toad both laughed so hard that toad fell off his seat.
When Frogosauras Stan took his final bow, Toad and Frog decided it was time to go home now.
They went back to the pond and hailed the taxi crew and the fish moved so fast across the water that the lily pad nearly flew!
Once Frog and Toad were safely back upon the bank the other side, they shook each others hands and said their goodbyes.
Frog enjoyed his day trip to the pond just down the road and he really enjoyed seeing his friend Mr Toad.
An ode by Jove
to that old toad
who ate my fish
as I made a wish
and kissed him on the lips
to find my prince.
But alas
he had no crown
so I tossed him down
hard and angry in to the briar
at last I saw him for what he was
just a toad and a liar.
Said his lover to the horny toad:
"Buster, you can hit the road!
A 'horny' Romeo you ain't,
And here's the basis of my complaint!
I don't know why they call you 'horny'!
'Tis a gross misnomer and is so very corny!
When it comes to romance you are dead!
You're about as sensual as a loaf of moldy bread!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
For those not acquainted with horny toads. They are a species that sport horns on
their heads, therefore, called horned or horny toads and are quite common here in
Colorado. I have no personal knowledge of a "horny" toad's sexual activities but
apparently the little lady toadette in this poem is upset about it!
My head feels like it's gonna' 'splode,
I use my poetry to unload,
I almost never write in code,
the truth, I find, a simpler mode.
The little tumor's just a node,
but, dude, I look just like a toad,
I didn't notice while it growed,
so now my world is wrought with woe'd.
(misspellings intentional, for dialect & humor)
©Danielle White