Beware the Frogman

I had a request to re-blog an older post I had made a few months ago…  enjoy!


 

Thanks to Devious Bloggery  for inspiring this bit of silliness with his blog today- Field Guides and Frogmen.

I love creepy urban legend tales of the unexplained!

 

Here’s your story on the misadventures of Missy Barton Devious Bloggery! You have most certainly given me the giggles! I hope you find it ribbiting! (heehee!)

Beware the Frogman

Erstwhile upon an epoch…

 

Squeaky Miss Missy Barton, was not use to living a life so strictly spartan,

She decided to go a jumping into reedy Isabella Lake, wearing her only plaid Tartan.

 

She was a few days older than just sixteen ,and maybe a smidgen and a speck, or just a bit naive?

Not to mention wide-eyed, innocent and sore gospel aggrieved.

 

Oh how she fancied those fairy-tales so exquisitely penned,  living so brazen with pinks and in purple sin.

But she wickedly dreamed nightly, of castle knights who would touch her rosy chagrin.

 

Whilst exploring the lake on a hiking odyssey, she heard the provocative ribbit cacophony.

Humming it’s pleasure to the strings of her young high pitched heart’s frail modesty.

 

Sitting prestigious there on a sun warmed rock, she found him washing out his colorful socks.

This Frogman, bare web was sitting there looking dashing and all dapper in his tight fitting frock.

 

Turning her direction and catching her glance, he flipped out his tongue to flash with a lewd jiggy dance.

Delight escaping by contagious giggles, they could only adore fate for this rare happenstance.

 

Then jumping up close to spring up beside her, he burped a hello hoping for love, and to inspire.

Puckering his wet lips like in her fairy stories told, and cajoling a tease for a gentle reminder.

 

What could it hurt just this one simple kiss?

If there is magic afoot, he could then be her charmed prince!

Leisurely leaning into a painted slime smile,

and giving it her darnedest to make it worthwhile!

The longing and loving tongues tried to played,

but Missy has never kissed a prince or frog since to this day!

 

The jesters and bards try to tell it all in song,

of the day Missy from Isabella Lake got it terribly wrong.

Of course the Frogman took his wet sloppy kiss,

but now Missy must live with the memory and regretfully reminisce.

 

When one meets the Frogman and with him you cavort,

the only magic that happens is you end up with warts!

~m

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sing Little Cricket

Tiny dancing cricket

Will you sing for me

Seek alphabet rain

To set me free

From the worldly cares

That are troubling me

 

Sing little cricket

Please, for me

My heart is broken

My love may never be

I need your song

It may hold the key

To skip time back

When I lived carefree

 

Sing little cricket

Sing just for me

Mend my heart

With heavy hearted melody

 

Sing little cricket

 

~m

 

 

 

 

 

Comfort Eating

Emotions escape by us all. Those dodgy lowball bullets of confidence, maybe a bit sifted through with those antiqued sieves and then stamped counterfeit, squeak in retreat.

‘Give sentiment, be not sentimental,’ she chides the king of cake.

As is the lady’s way of dismissed privilege, to chide, not knowing the first thing about silver plates or bullets.

Later in cloaked midnight, temporary airs are discarded. Apparitions appear all the same while laughing in platinum frosting.

It was that moment, I myself, felt domestically feral. Turning to make contracts of tears that bite hands, and feed on others guilty pleasures.

Open wounds of the heart only heal, when the chocolate is buttered, creamed, and gloved in silk.

 

~m

Windy

 

The god of thunder paid a visit today,

Sat down for tea and blusterd away

With his little pinky curled, exceptionally high

Proceeded to bellow and complain, he made me cry

His new lover, Windy, was right on his heels

Mouthy and a bit crazy,  she created an unnecessary ordeal

Snarling her contempt,  in a jealous rage

She puffed up her chest, and began her rampage

Him with his rolling laughter, only fueled her fury

I fled as fast as I could,  away from these bullies

It wasn’t long, till my champion the sun

Broke through their anger, and told then they were done

Ten minutes of my life, and I felt like a cold coward

But my  sun smiled again,  and even brought me flowers

 

~m

Aunt Lulu

 

She is a magical mess, but oh, she is so much fun!

Aunt Lulu is the favorite eccentric aunt to just about everyone.

 

One time she hitched a rodeo ride, on a first class tumbleweed.

All whilst playing a grueling game of backgammon with a hive of bumblebees.

 

Some nights she dances bare with ghost of her long departed feline friends.

While other nights, she joy rides to the moon in her flashy Mercedes Benz.

 

Aunt Lulu impresses with a sense of wild wonder and mischief, you just wait and see!

That Mercedes Benz? Last year she took it off road, and won the first place trophy of the F1 Grand Prix!

 

Oh! And she knows all the top secret and silliest facts ever know to man.

Like how most gorillas, roll their eyes to huff when you try and talk about Tarzan.

 

 

The oddity of her proclivities to kiss and tell, round out her resumes’ a la carte!

But despite her bizarre adventures to have wild-ish fun times, she truly is a genuine work of art.

 

Aunt Lulu is the definition of compassion, and would give her last dime.

To help orphans, stray animals, and lost causes: they are the joys of her pastime.

 

~m

 


Still working on this one. I’m in a silly mood today. 🙂