On tidying the garden, I came across a frog
Sitting there serenely on a decomposing log
It had a vary vacant look, as if it didn’t know
Quite what is was meant to do, or where it’s meant to go
I carried on my tidying, occasionally had a glance
To see if it was still around, among the wood and plants
And there it was, so motionless, it really was a joke
As still as death, on rotting wood, with an occasional croak
And when my job was almost done, it took me by surprise
It did a little hop and jump, right before my eyes
It leapt over the undergrowth, into a little bog
A home from home amphibian, my friend, the little frog
I really like frogs so your poem appealed to me. Great little creatures. They make my pond come alive. I enjoyed your poem Phil. Nicely penned.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
How nice to be with he mother nature. Not many can appreciate what is natural. You are one of he rare ones! Great job, Phil!