The Singing Frog

In a pond, green and grand, Where lily pads bobbed, close at hand, Lived a frog, round and stout, Ready to sing, without a doubt!

This frog loved singing, loud and clear, Ignoring the quacks of all his peers. He'd puff out his throat, a wobbly sight, And croak out a tune, both day and night!

"La-la-la, dee-dee-doo!" he'd belt with glee, Waking the water, for all to see. The insects buzzed, a grumpy sound, As the off-key notes flew all around.

The water rippled, then with a splash, A grumpy beetle let out a rash, "Oh, Froggy, please! Your song's a crime! It's worse than eating mud in summertime!"

The dragonflies whizzed, a dizzying spin, "His voice is a racket, where do we begin?" The mosquitoes joined, a whining choir, "He's messing with our buzzing desire!"

The water sighed, "He means no harm, But his singing's like a loud alarm." The insects all gathered, a buzzing throng, Their tiny faces, oh, so long.

They plotted and planned, a sneaky scheme, To silence the frog, and end his dream. But how to do it? That was the trick, Before Froggy started another lick!

Then, with a jump, a little gnat cried, "I know! Let's fill his pond with sweet fly pie!" So they gathered all the flies nearby, And made an offer, Froggy couldn't deny.

The frog ate up the whole fly pie, His voice was gone, and the insects began to fly, "Oh dear, so full, my voice will be quiet tonight, The insects cheered, with all their might!