The tree frog
sits
on a green leafy branch
and stares at me with bright orange persimmon eyes
and a goofy expression that says,
“I’m a tree frog, what did you expect? ”
His yellow gumby-like legs
and bulbous sticky fingers
are poised and
ready to jump
straight out of the calendar
and onto my keyboard.
Ah, the things that go through your head
when divining for inspiration.
(Previously published in Creative Voice, Feb.2000)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love it.Your descriptions of the frog are great, but the last two lines say it all. Thanks for sharing. Richard