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Array ( [sid] => 184014 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Regretful Frog [time] => 2017-03-18 22:26:11 [hometext] => A wise Frog is never less alone than when he is alone [bodytext] =>

The only frog in a pond I chose for solitude

has granted me

the largest, softest lily pad,

the heartiest bugs,

so abundant they graciously (for me) fight

to gain proximity

when hunger finds my tongue in need

of a crunchy, tasty bite.

Indeed, I rest when effort calls,

why test this perfect life at all?

I hop from pad to pad at will.

Moon or sun could rise or fall,

it would seem, (is this a dream?)

in all things I have my fill.

But there is another pond,

the noisy boisterous one I left;

a tad to many there for me;

(another failed test?).

Across moonlit fronds between our ponds sounds float,

of late, now softened bickering and croaking

(I believe) from them to me,

upon the wind, nightly without rest.

And now, with all I have,

I look upon this lonely pond;

So much….so little!

do I have, can it really be?

Now I know why this is so;

Alone, alone,

I never let another frog know me.

[comments] => 2 [counter] => 102 [topic] => 61 [informant] => invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => selfstruggles )

The Regretful Frog

Contributed by invierno on Saturday, 18th March 2017 @ 10:26:11 PM in AEST
Topic: selfstruggles

The only frog in a pond I chose for solitude

has granted me

the largest, softest lily pad,

the heartiest bugs,

so abundant they graciously (for me) fight

to gain proximity

when hunger finds my tongue in need

of a crunchy, tasty bite.

Indeed, I rest when effort calls,

why test this perfect life at all?

I hop from pad to pad at will.

Moon or sun could rise or fall,

it would seem, (is this a dream?)

in all things I have my fill.

But there is another pond,

the noisy boisterous one I left;

a tad to many there for me;

(another failed test?).

Across moonlit fronds between our ponds sounds float,

of late, now softened bickering and croaking

(I believe) from them to me,

upon the wind, nightly without rest.

And now, with all I have,

I look upon this lonely pond;

So much….so little!

do I have, can it really be?

Now I know why this is so;

Alone, alone,

I never let another frog know me.

Copyright Â© invierno ... [ 2017-03-18 22:26:11]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: The Regretful Frog (User Rating: 1 )
by softerware on Sunday, 19th March 2017 @ 01:14:11 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Your story brings us to remember our traveling days. Growing up without roots. Jumping from lily pad to lily pad..Always saying good-bye.
If we don/'/t connect with others, there is no pain to endure when we are parted.
As you say, ALONE, ALONE the mantra of those who moved constantly in their youth.
The symptom I carry with me is an archaic defense mechanism: I refuse to remember names.

NOW I KNOW WHY THIS IS SO. softerware

Re: The Regretful Frog (User Rating: 1 )
by JamesStockdale on Sunday, 19th March 2017 @ 09:49:27 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

This was great with an awesome flow.
Me likes, very much!!!!!!! It just hit me right!

James

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