Nothing’s wrong, but worry lingers on.
Putrid pond, scum forms tight bonds.
Frogspawn, mutant genes carry on.
Tadpoles feed on fresh-water encephalon.
Growing long, the froglets gather brawn.
Belief is strong, but death by dawn.
Denouement, amphibian-covered lawn.
Nothing’s wrong, the lullaby lingers on.
“Frogs in a moon night” by Attila Kővár
Linda is host for tonight’s Quadrille #136: Let’s Linger. Join us.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
I love your description of the frog pond!
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Thank you, Dwight. They sure sing here in the evenings. Sometimes, sounds like we’re outnumbered.
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I know what you mean!
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the “on” rhyme really sticks and lingers in this one, epic write! 🐸
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Thank you, Tricia. It seemed like the sort of thing where a lot of people might “croak.” Appreciate you reading and commenting.
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The alliterative title sets the tone for this lovely amphibian poem.
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Thank you, Hobbo. Brain-eating bullfrogs was my other title consideration. 😉
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😂 I prefer the first!
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🐸 KH 🐸
This made me smile very broadly.
-David
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Wonderful. Well, if I ever write these bullfrogs into a longer tale, I’ll be sure to share. I do so love a good insect invastion. Can’t seem to escape it. 😉
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Fantastic write!
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Brilliant 🖤
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I enjoyed this expose on amphibians and their place in the world. Their deafening screams drove me inside de many nights. This little prose was actually scary with the fresh water encephalon eating and mutant genes. They really are “lingering” from another time period.
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K.,
Loved this: “Growing long, the froglets gather brawn” The internal rhymes work perfectly throughout and each image impresses itself. Cleverly done.
pax,
dora
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Clever! I enjoyed reading this, K.
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Nice to have those worries replaced by lullabies! I can identify 🙂
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Thank you, Ingrid. Yes, I’m enjoying the lull of the wildlife here at night a the windows bring in a fresh breeze. Fall is making its way.
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