The Prideful Bull Frog
In a small cabin by a lake,
A new dawning as I awake;
The dimly view of twilight,
Gives a slightly eerie sight.
Enshrouded in a misty fog,
Hearing a prideful bull frog.
While sitting on a lily pad,
Feeling lonesome and sad.
Telling a story of his gloom,
Possibly as a jilted groom;
Possibly looking for a mate,
Or indigestion what he ate.
It does not matter either way,
Not happy needless to say;
Regardless for the intent,
His croaking is a lament.
He just does not know Christ,
And why Jesus was sacrificed;
Through his life without hope,
All his trouble unable to cope.
Richard Newton Sherrer
Copyright ©2006 Richard Newton Sherrer
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The Prideful Bull Frog
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