Sam Peasley's Ghostly Lamantation
Sometimes at night when the stars are just right,
The Tannahill boys go out frogging.
Now Padderson Pond is a social delight,
But not when it's moonless and foggy!
These are the nights, heavy mist rolling in,
Envelopes the pond with foreboding.
The boys feel the quiet before it begins,
Their frog hunting fun now eroding.
From somewhere deep in the shrouded gloom,
The squeak of an ancient oar,
And when the oar bumps on the side of the boat,
They linger not one minute more!
A barely audible splash, quick and small,
Sam Peasley's growled frustration,
Boys and frogs hear it all, hear him howl and bawl
His immeasurably sad Lamantation!
Comments about this poem (Sam Peasley's Ghostly Lamantation by Connie Yost )
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