Poem of the Day

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A Night of Frogs

 

A frog lives in our garden
in a pond beneath the tree.
I hear it croak at bedtime
as it says ‘goodnight’ to me.

A frog lives by our back door
on a post below the light.
I sneak outside to say ‘hello’
because it’s only there at night.

A frog lives in our laundry
in the corner of the wall.
I check when I come back inside
to make sure it didn’t fall.

A frog lives in our kitchen
in the space behind the sink.
It freezes in the torchlight
when I get myself a drink.

A frog lives in our bathroom
and I don’t know what to do
because it isn’t where it should be.
Yuk! It’s swimming in the loo!

My mum comes in the bathroom,
plants a kiss upon my head.
‘The frogs are fine just where they are
but you should be in bed!’

Kristin Martin

 

 

Poem of the Day

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A FROG ON A LOG

by Allan Cropper

A frog

a frog on a log

a frog on a log with a bag full of sticks

a frog on a log with a bag full of tricks

a frog

a magical frog

a mystical frog

a wave

a wave of a stick

a wave of a stick from his bag full of tricks

a wave of a wand from his bag full of sticks

a fog

a magical fog

a mystical fog

a mist

a mist on a pond

a mystical fog on a frog on a log

a frog on a log was no longer a frog

a frog on a log had turned into a dog

a dog

a magical dog

a mystical dog

a dog

a dog not a frog

a dog, not a frog, on a log in a fog

a dog not a frog with a bag full of sticks

a dog not a frog with a bag full of tricks

a wave

a wave of a stick

a wave of a stick from his bag full of tricks

a wave of a wand from his bag full of sticks

a smog

a magical smog

a mystical smog

a twist

a twist of a tail

a magical smog and the pond was a bog

a dog not a frog was no longer a dog

a dog not a frog had turned into a hog

a hog

a magical hog

a mystical hog

a hog

a hog not a dog

a hog not a frog

a hog in a bog

a hog not a dog or a frog on a log

a hog in a bog not a dog or a frog

a magical hog with a bag full of sticks

a magical hog with a bag full of tricks