
FROG LAKE
THE OPERA
Frogs chant spring love song from pond to ditch.
Their tunes are one note symphonies,
croaks of joy that move other frogs to ecstasy.
Boy frogs seek girl frogs, encouraging them to share
the splendours of ditch life, pond life,
in a pairing whose springtime union will employ
frog song to spawn still more singers.
There’s joy in this calling, croaking, creating;
and where there’s joy, there’s laughter, love,
happiness, light, sun, brightness, flowing water:
everything frogs associate with spring.
Every night the frowning silence of frozen stars
wings deeper into memory. Spring moonlight
swings its cheerful love lamp. Earth also sings.
I miss the chorus of frogs in my old pond in the spring. You took me back there, Roger!
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It’s an amazing time, spring and the frog’s chorus: the constant noise, day and night, a regular choir. The poetry of it goes way back to Greek times, and beyond. Living in the city, surrounded by concrete, we forget the real world as many of us knew it, in the countryside, when we were children. Milk comes from a cow’s udder, not from a plastic carton. I remember it well: hot, warm, and bubbling!
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Agreed…
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Other one note symphonies I’ve heard of today … concrete roads that sing as you drive over them, trees that grow close and creak when the wind blows them against one another, scratching of squirrels in the attic, the middle of the night sound of a cell phone that needs charging …. none as good as spring peepers! Jane
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That is a poem in itself, Jane. I hope you never lose that poetry within you. It comes out in the paint too. Your paintings sing from my walls.
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Hi Roger. Thanks. I had a blog friend (a painter) tell me my art looks like my poetry sounds! Very memorable comment! Jane
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We have artistic personalities and when we express ourselves they come out differently in different media … but they are all recognizable. You are your art … and am so glad to be even the smallest part of it. Thank you for including me.
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