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In a puddle by the trail |
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Flips its tiny tail |
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Just like a great big whale |
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But smaller than a snail |
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It's a pollywog in a bog |
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Swims under soggy logs |
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One day he'll be a frog |
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Pollywog in a bog |
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Overhead a cedar tree |
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Gives the shade he needs |
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Munching while he feeds |
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On lily pads and weeds |
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Knows not where he's from |
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Or how his life had begun |
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He's not the only one |
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And soon he'll breathe through lungs |
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It's hard to believe |
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With the arms you'll receive |
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You'll lift your head |
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Above the water and breathe |
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Gills shrink away |
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And may there come a day |
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When you reach the shore |
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With a whole world to explore |
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Ribbit, ribbit, a tadpole exhibit |
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It's a transformation no one can inhibit |
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Amphibian change may seem strange |
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Take them gills and the tail and they all rearrange |
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Out come the legs for the jump, jump |
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Hope to the top of the stump, stump |
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Out come the legs for the jump, jump |
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Hope to the top of the stump, stump |
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Where the mud is deep |
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Frost will soon creep |
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And without a peep |
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A frog is fast asleep |
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It was a pollywog in a bog |
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Swam under soggy logs |
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In the morning fog |
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Pollywog in a bog |
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Pollywog in a bog |
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Swam under soggy logs |
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In the morning fog |
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Pollywog in a bog |
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Pollywog in a bog |
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Swam under soggy logs |
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In the morning fog |
