Treasure Island

James Martin Devaney

(31 May 1890 - 14 August 1976 / Sandhurst, Victoria)

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The Frog Pool


Week after week it shrank and shrank
as the fierce drought fiend drank and drank,
till on the bone-dry bed revealed
the mud peeled;
but now tonight is steamy-warm,
heavy with hint of thunderstorm.

And hark! hark! hoarse and harsh
the throaty croak of the frogs in the marsh:
"Wake! wake! awake! awake!
The drought break!"
but no, that chorus seems to me
more a primeval harmony.

The thunder booms, the floods flow
blended with deeper din below,
and every time the skies crash
the swamps flash!
and the whole place will be tonight
a pandemonium of delight.

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004

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  • Sidi Mahtrow (5/11/2012 11:46:00 PM)

    The Frog Pool

    in the spring
    The pollywogs swim
    Hatched by the millions
    From eggs laid bare
    Now they join others
    In the watery lair.

    A fish like creature
    With bulging head
    A body and a flick of a tail
    Growing boldly
    As they swim about
    Mindless of the future
    And the coming rout.

    Suddenly tiny legs appear
    A pair up front and others a rear
    Vestiges of things to come
    As they swim freely
    No thought of what's to come.

    Then one day
    As the fat tail shrinks away
    They venture forth
    Onto terrestrial firma
    And are there to stay.

    They've metamorphosed
    To something new,
    A creature know to others
    Who come to view.

    A frog

    s
    S (Report) Reply

Read all 5 comments »

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