I hear you nightly, mocking me, laughing at me with you croaks
You and your ten thousand friends
You began as tiny spawns in my pool cover
Multiplying, multiplying, multiplying
Until I died inside - the carnage
Now I am forced to live with the knowlege, the every present ring of disgustingness,
That you hop around my yard, croaking, waiting for me
For the day will come when I walk by you - so many of you
And you will look at me with those dark, horrible eyes of amphibianess
Poised, ready to jump
And I will run, screaming into my shelter
I try to forget you, to be glad for you, to thank you
To rember how many insects you will lick up and devour
And alas I cannot
For every night as I plan to retire
To depart into slumber and the land of dreams
I am haunted by you and your thousands of friends
Croaking, Croaking, Croaking
And I die
This work of literary genius was trapped inside of me, begging to get out, burning in my brain as I listen to the ..............................croaking
5/14/2011 06:29:35 am

Bless your sweet heart, the Lord will bless you for not killing all those precious creatures!! Maybe this is His way of helping you to overcome your frog-o-phobia. . . .I had 7 little froggies in my yard just last evening and I wondered if they were Foster Froggies. . . .ribbitt...ribbitt. . .

5/15/2011 04:28:26 pm

Ha ha ha ha ha. . . . Ha.
Oh Cassie! Loved the poem! Frogs are icky, but your terror cracks me up! I'll be sure to teach your boys how to catch frogs, make frog houses, and maybe some groggy crafts!!

5/16/2011 09:00:18 am

Beautiful, deep, truly inspiring. Haha!

5/18/2011 12:58:21 am

So...I totally made fun of you behind your back after I read this. I thought...who is scared of frogs. They don't hurt you. But then it came jumping toward me when I was cleaning out kenner's sand table (well now it is just a water table...not quite as messy...I am such a bad mom, depriving my child of sand play...oh well) yesterday. That nasty slimey little thing jumped right at me and I screamed like a little girl and did my "please don't touch me or jump my way" dance. :0) So, I guess I won't be making fun of your fear of frogs (behind your back :0) or not) anymore. :0) love you.

5/18/2011 01:00:13 am

Actually, I am starting to think that I am scared of all things outdoors...frogs, bugs, flying things, anything that creeps and crawls and howls in the night. :) I don't even like the smell you get after hanging out outdoors. :)

7/11/2012 07:20:45 pm

I just added this weblog to my rss reader, exceptional stuff. I like your writing style.


I admit that I am not really a fan of poems. But this one is kind of unique; and I had the desire to finish it until its last word. Poems are creativity done and organized. Every word was planned to be there and they have their roles to play to make an impact to the readers. That’s the reason why I am not good at poetry; it is because I don’t know how to organize things as I find it really complicated. But still, I am willing to give int a try.


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