There was a bloke called Percy
He delivered all the milk
He was rather fancy
His uniform was made of silk.
He thought he’d take a shortcut
And go right through the bog
Didn’t see where he was going
And tripped over a log.
He fell into ice cold water
Right up to the family jewels
He normally liked a swim
But not in these bloody pools.
The cold fair took his breath away
He got such a dreadful fright
But he let out such a horrible scream
The Bog Man calls tonight.
Dogs started barking
Kids stopped sky larking
Even some hippies got uptight
People heard the screaming
But thought they were dreaming
When the Bog Man called tonight.
They congregate in a bog
vying to be the boss hog
all the teethy little fishes
Swimming in circles they go
Baldy, Waldo, and Bozo
When one of them dishes
they all start to nibble
Watch them hurry to the bog
mouths drooling with dribble.
Throw out the chum
and watch them bite
at each other's bum.
It's a hilarious sight.
Swimming in circles they go
Feeding time is status quo
Along the shore they creep,
waiting to dive into the deep.
It's a condition known as stasis
but has no factual basis.
There's no hurry to reel them in
once they've been hooked.
Their circus act can be booked.
Swimming in circles they go
Banjo, Bongo and Bo Bo
A school of big mouth bass
from waters of the lower class
floating around in the bog
getting themselves waterlogged.
The grueling skies are darkened now
as heavy clouds clutch barren ground
through thickened fog there lies a bog
a silent menace, foreboding grog.
Yet now, against my wiser will
I slog, to view the slimy pit
that locks the suffocating water tight
no ripples flow, no fresh respite.
A strange attraction draws me in
to meld within this cursed lip of spite
it carries me down and out of sight
to solemn end, to depth of night.
he is as much like Frank Sinatra as I have ever met
A natural crooner, said the boy named Leer Jet
I was curious of course, so followed him to the bog
Good grief, he was right about this singer, a frog!
The frog had a look that was Sinatra-like too
He reminded me of Frank, his rhythm was of that hue
He gave me a “come hither” look and I melted away.
I kind of lost my heart at that pond that day.
Future is always veiled in a fog,
With lights guiding through life's dark bog.
marshy mossy fly
fuzzy crowding cattails
green bulldog croaking
music in the bog
evening buzzes and humming
wild things aboard
in a barnyard pen sits a happy hog
bullfrogs in a blizzard bog
dense and daring grayish fog
a curious machine with a metal cog
a summertime yip from a happy dog
going on a jaunty jubilant jog
black ants sliding on a wet log
chef includes New Years eve eggnog
love to rhyme hog fog bog cog and dog
Step into
reason
The quicksand
of mind
The harder
you struggle
The deeper
the slime
The deeper
the slime
The harder
you fight
The sun
further distant
Consumed
— by the night
(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)
There once was a cocky male frog
Who met a cute toad on a log
She thought he said “Ribbit”
In fact, he said “Rub it”
Now he’s belly-up in the bog.
daddy daughter dance is in full swing
every daughter feeling her daddy is the king
the bog is lit with frisky fireflies, the air is full of zing
the frog princess’s heart does a wild ding-a-ling
her daddy is surveying, jumps down with a ring
swirls her and twirls her, his princess Whilaming
a night to remember, every single terrific thing
terrific night, daddy daughter dance in swing.
They sat on a bog log.
eating some hot lunch.
And when it was all gone
plugged their axes into a stump.
Frog says to fiddler.
I won't let it go, son.
Seventy-one years old
it's on a long run.
Fiddler says yeah man.
but we're not alone.
Mustard on a bug
in G, Rock N Roll.
Entered in the frog and the fiddler contest.
Sponsored By: Craig Cornish.
1/30/ 23
I was once told a story, of the wee folk of Bensham Bog; they live in carved mushroom houses that are shaped like bullfrogs and they ensure the survival of creatures there. They travel in petrified skins of bananas and are rarely ever seen yet, they mix all of the peat moss and propagate trees. Coniferous trees like pine and spruce, larch and fir; trees that produce oxygen; negative ions for the air. Be thankful, these fey exist; if you see one at night; you’ll know because, they glow with blue light.
in the bog
trees thriving-
faeries labor
Wetlands help to keep a balance within our environment; their preservation is vital, this everyone should know. They provide iron deposits, lovely, translucent obsidian stone from which, early man, made himself tools. Flora, like water lily’s grow in bogs and thriving there, leatherback turtles, an endangered species.
a leatherback turtle swims-
crickets chirping
Time is a sieve through
which everything slips
what once mattered
rendered meaningless
as our lifeblood drips
onto the clay creating
a muddy bog that in
our well worn boots
we wearily slog
like tired Tommies
in the trenches waiting
with bated breath
for the shrill sound
of the officer's whistle
to pierce the fusty
fetid air and send us
surging over the top in
a futile foray where we
will meet our final fate
that in our wasted youth
we failed to contemplate
Sky squeezes wet clouds and showers drip
through fingers and drop on earth’s grip.
Drops peer through nerve ends to starving earth’s soul;
soul fills in and crust moistens
and drops slip on her skin.
Brooks fill in, fields spill; canals feel thrilled;
crabs bounce, fish pounce and cranes feel chilled;
trees bend their heads, their hands and their arms;
sap oozes through their stems, roots and palms.
brooks pump the river
river spills and floods marshland ~
frog adores a bog
-------------------------------
Crystalline: 9/8; Kimo: 10/7/6; Couplet (9 syllables in each line) and
Haiku: 5/7/5. Posted on Verse
*A 2nd Place*in the following contest (judged on Dec. 7, 2020)
Dec. 1, 2020
FUSION Poetry Contest
Contest Sponsor: Brian Strand
*A 3rd Place* in the following contest (judged on Sept. 20, 2020)
September 10, 2020
Writing Challenge - Nature, Four in One - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
in trenches of fear
submerged breathless for glory -
mud medals and God
30th January 2020
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