The Bullfrog & the Rose

I’m married to a woman

(she really is a fine one)

whose smile is like a sunray—

an effervescent ballet—

that brightens up the room.

But I’m angry at her husband—

he’s always a curmudgeon—

hardly ever sayin’ “Please”

& always losing keys.

How can he be her groom?

But we dance our dance together

(though good & lousy weather)

steppin’ on each other’s toes—

one’s a thorn & one a rose—

like a bullfrog kissed a bloom.

Copyright 2020