Saturday, 28 March 2015

Squashed Frog Sonnet

I hopped along the stoney road, the dark
Black night was silent and I knew that soon
I 'd see my love beneath the crescent moon.
I sang a little (something dull by Bach)
And listened to the other frogs remark
Upon the season's weather as my tune
Chugged on and grew quite riveting, 'no lark
More blithe than me.'  No lark more deaf and blind.
I thought it was my love at first, but no
What touched me was not his amphib'ous hand
He did not speak nor climb up from behind.
It was a car that mounted me and so
I lay, squashed flat and ground into the sand.

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