9/15/08_1986_ColorPencil_Drawing_Poem by Betina Hershey Russo
Oh, the sun may be hot
With laughter and spice
And though flowers may rot
Still, a frog's life is nice
But I must ask, while masking my curry,
Is it my voice, with its blat and its croak
That caused you to duck down and simper and scurry
Away from my pond where I ponder and choke
Back a few tears.
Oh yes, it appears
That you just couldn't handle my jocular croak,
And that's why you vanish beneath your dark cloak.
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