Young Natalie went for a jog, While dawn mists swirled up from the bog, And spied in the road, A fat warty toad, And picked up and kissed that damn frog. 'Twas sun-up and still fairly dark, With no-one to see, in the park, The happening strange... The amphibian's change, To a hairy two-headed aardvark. She dropped the beast, wholly dejected; The ant-bear it's saviour inspected: "Oh well,, honey, since You wanted a prince, I'd better be as you expected." A flash, and to no-one's surprise, A prince stands in front of her eyes, But happy e'er after? Oh no, things get dafter: He's still half-frog, likes eating flies. So though our Nat's filled with alarm, And fears that she'll come to great harm, Because he's so callous, She lives in his palace, The site of a huge maggot farm. They live as a couple, adult, He shows that he's sure worth his salt, When he hops in to bed, And before long, 'tis said, A huge tadpole swarm's the result. Now if the above tale you should vex, With Describing such cross-species sex, Relax folks, for I'm Assured froggie slime, Has hallucinogenic effects. So Nat had bred no tadpole litter, And when she came round, with taste bitter, She'd learned, shut your gob, And don't ever slob- ber over no pond-dwelling critter.
These musings were inspired by a list of variations found on Google by entering the search term "frog kissing".
Sunday, May 01, 2005