THE FROG IN THE BOG
A Children's Story By
There once was an old mother frog
Who lived in a muddy old bog.
She made her home under a log,
And there she watched her polliwogs.
All day long the polliwogs swam,
And wiggled by the small rock dam.
In and out of an old tin can,
Up the weeds and down to the sand.
On each side, one high and one low,
Each polliwog started to grow
Four little legs, two in a row,
With four webbed feet, and little toes.
One day a male polliwog wailed,
"Help, mama frog, I lost my tail!"
"It's better," mama frog told the male.
"With one hop, through the air you'll sail."
The next day when the male frog woke
He stretched and then began to croak.
The other polliwogs heard and poked
Their heads from the bog, taking notes.
Each must change as the small male had
And maybe change wasn't so bad.
The pollywog was now a lad
And someday he might be a dad!
Please sign my guest book.