Frogger Prince
by Michelle Stiles
Frogger Prince died reciting poetry.
I wonder who the lucky lady could be?
Did she have green warts and eat flies?
Have a certain twinkle in her eyes?
Whatever she looked like she must
Have something special to deserve his lust.
For Frogger Prince must've known
To win her heart before the lawn got mown.
Across the cool blue water he swum.
His chance at true love had finally come.
So against the current he paddled and pushed
Hoping his heart would remain unsmushed.
When he finally arrived at the edge of the pool
Frogged Prince looked refreshed and cool.
On his hind legs with his hand on his heart
He said, "My love you are a work of art!"
On and on he confessed his love
As the sun shone from up above.
Then suddenly a loud noise was heard.
The lawnmower roared on his last word.
From the lawn mower a large rock ricocheted
Hit him in the head so dead he now laid.
Pity the poor dear for he wasn't a bloke.
Just a lovestruck frog too young to croak.
Many ladies would've kissed Frogger Prince.
Now the idea of that makes them wince.
