I never knew I was a fan of frogs’ singing
until I moved into a home by a
lake.
Rough voices color the night while
mingling
with lights dancing off of the water’s
face.
In unison the choir stops to admire the
stars,
to imagine the sound of joined voices in
space
A whisper bounces back from galaxy’s
edge
ribbit! ribbit! echoing through the Milky Way.
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
My streams of thought meet here
Conceptual Photographer and Writer
Ramblings
Killer Fiction
Music and Storytelling
Besteesydian
A bit of this...A bit of that...bit of everything...come on in...
Life in a flash - a bi-weekly storytelling blog
MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
I'd curtsy but I'm drunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
Nice! I just went for a walk today to enjoy our Pacific Tree frogs in Oregon. They sound like a very slow squeak in a floor board or a rusty hinge on a door. Then there’s their “rick-ick, rick-ick, rick-ick” sound that they make at night. For all I know, that means, “Take me, baby, I’m yours!”
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😊
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Because froggies.
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I love how ours all start and end together. I can picture a conductor frog with a tiny baton.
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