Long time ago, their was a
magnificent frog, he love
to hop away on the grass
the gravel the dirt the pathways
the hallways and at least
the road of paradise, the street
of freeways, he kept his
journey smoothly, the frog was
hopping so fast in the
woods of goodness and proudness
and powerful, he hopped
and chopped to the mysterious
land and sand of humongous
beach, he got his own
mid day afternoon, he wear
his own shades on his classy
and good looking eyes of
fame, he laid down on his long
stretched colorful chair
with his bud light beer, he smokes
like a single tree and
free to the spree, he loves to count
number three as well, he
was reading his favorite book
in the decade of poetry
land, he truly got his own sweetheart
smile in summer time, hop
frog is the best yet to come
Written by
Michael James Brindley
9-9-15
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