Upon a stream, upon a day so fair.
Upon a log that drifted slowly there,
There sat a frog who seemed without a care.
And joined him there to form a verdant pair,
His mate, and into her eyes he did stare.
For they had only recently been wed,
As down the stream their log now swiftly sped.
They’d promised to be true till they were dead,
But this devotion to disaster led:
They didn’t see the waterfall ahead.
Copyright © Dennis N. O’Brien, 2011
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