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 Contemporary poetry by Dan Donlan

NO NAME FOGGY MOUNTAIN BRIDGE

By Dan Donlan, www.PoetryPoem.com/dandy1    Unlock all Features - Upgrade to Poetry Prime

There was once a story written about a Princess kissing
a toad. The toad turned into a Prince. So children all
over the world were kissing their pet toads who would
then turn into BullFrogs. No longer did they trust adults.
This is of course why children do not mind adults.

It was most often always foggy in Foggy Valley. Morning shadows
would begin with an icy mist. The mist first appearing on
the Grey muddy banks above and beyond the site of the old
oaken bridge. This is where the biggest and best jumping
toads hid. For the villagers the bridge had no name. So
using adult logic they called it No Name bridge. Children
were told it was dangerous and to stay away. Everyone knows
how well children mind adults. This was hard to do when
frogs were croaking, A lion or two were prowling and snarling,
Panther's were hiding, "This is the fictional part" There are
no Panther's in the Northwest below Foggy mountain, One could
hear running footsteps from the other side.

Once appeared the head of a twenty foot python snake. Soon
slithering back in the slime. Children were told to stay
away from Foggy Mountain unless with adults who were sneaking
smokes. For on the distant shores beyond the fog giant monsters
were seen carrying heavy weapons and whose main diet was children.
Most children were afraid and would not venture beyond the high
cliff guarding the Village.

But there is always one, in this case three. Little Brent who was
nine going on ten, Ryan who was six not expected to survive and
Kelsey who well be known as Sis. Sis was the one with impish blue
sad eyes, Brent curly red matted Irish hair and Ryan who just tagged
along and would later play semi-pro hockey for the Ravens. They had
lost their dog known only as Holmes. One day the children came up
missing. Not a big loss as the village was made up of mostly children.
Also missing was Brent's bamboo Fenwick fishing pole, a bucket of
slimy worms and a recently captured bullfrog named "Warts", Not popular
kids considered runaway the search ended in a weekend.

Sunday they were being mentioned in prayers when the preacher stopped,
Kelsey's dog Holmes came running in the front door. His tail wagging
was a good sign, Following Holmes were many other dogs and strange kids
known as immigrants they had never seen before. They were friendly and
with their parent were singing happy songs. All the pitchforks were laid
down. The moral of the story is--All stories must have a morals. If you
put the weapons down and learn to understand the other sides point of view.
Crossing the bridge and not be blinded by the unknown, your village well
be overcrowded with illegal immigrants.

I firat wrote this as a poem in the bad boy closet in Ms. Nuances second
grade class. I was "Punky" later changed to "Dandy" and was given a "D-",
The girls as girls always are were given all the "A" grades writing girls
fluffy stories. I don't hold a grudge. I put worms,snakes, and cockroaches
in next weeks good conduct chest for the girls to open. This is also why
I took the second grade twice. You kids know I would not lie I never really
grew up. But the girls did. Some of them I like allot. In the long run
I prefer kissing girls over toads although toads are sometimes more loyal







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