Litte frogs hopping along by the water,
as you wish, growing wilder
by the day in May
My chin will tell the truth:
stick after stick of your namesake
disappears in the kitchen,
but we don’t welcome you there
unless tamed and sad in a jar
trail free, little leapers,
in a spill of sunshine
across the open field
May flower mania continues! Thank you for reading!
The Poetry Patio 