I once met a frog
Whose name was Fred He hopped around And bounced on his bed.
He hopped to the pond
And went for a swim He called for his friends And they all joined in
At night he loved
To relax and knit He wanted a scarf That would snugly fit
Around his neck
When days are cool It’s chilly cold In the murky pool
A thick woolly hat
An nice warm mitts Would make him happy And shout RIBBIT! Exclusive poems on Animal Special feelings on Frog Brave thoughts about Happy
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ALL POEMS ©2015 DARREN SCANLON. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. * Words and music have always played a major role in my life. A life without being able to enjoy music and express in words would be, for me, empty and cold.I have been writing since age 16, some 30+ years now but have only recently started publishing my works. Since doing so in Dec 2013, I have published 4 novels and 5 volumes of poetry, (available on Amazon.co.uk).My words are my life. If they touch you in any way, if you are able to take something from them, then my work has achieved its goal and I am a happy man.Welcome to my world. Darren.
Frogs use their backbones to leap I wonder if they sleep?! They never drink to survive Can absorb to stay alive Survival of frogs does need Global warming to stop indeed Prop it the frog to save Earth from the
Let us go then, you and I… Let us go then… Tired? Surprisingly, we have been saying this a hundred years. It haunts. The hallucination continues. No, it leap-frogs. Eliot was dead before I was born, before we were born.
Let us go then, you and I. Let us go then, you and I… For a hundred years, this line echoes around the rims of the inner ears of poets and anti-poets, not because it’s true or untrue, visionary or