It’s April and what better way to celebrate than with frogs? It’s my springtime fixation. I began doodling little frogs a few weeks ago when our first blossoms emerged in Stanley Park. These tiny creatures are great fun to draw. They’re more diverse than the U.S. Supreme Court. For your enjoyment, I’ve incorporated the sketches into a YouTube tutorial I did (Art with Flo), and put together this illustration.
Last night, I remembered a verse I wrote many years ago—in the spring, no doubt. So, I dug it out, hoping to send a chuckle your way.
Purple Frog
I had a slippery purple frog
I took him to the pub
He drank of whiskey and of grog
And mingled in the hub
He was fairly good at snooker
And excellent at darts
He was really quite a looker
And he broke a thousand hearts
A truly snappy dresser
He always wore a vest
I preferred him to the normal cur
And I think he liked me best
He loved the arts and theatre
But dancing he abhorred
He snubbed the unctuous waiter
But hugged the common hoard
Out each night at half past ten
We revelled through the night
He sprang around each charming inn
Impressing all in sight
He’s only failing really was
His slippery purple skin
But I think I liked him most because
He had no next of kin
He and I were comrades
On this cold and squalid earth
And somehow things were not so bad
At the bar stools that we berthed
So I think you can imagine
How it must’ve been for me
That evening at the tavern
When he slipped into the sea
A normal night as any
As we gathered in our cups
He took up one too many
And began to table hop
The tables they did joggle
And the spirits tipped and spilled
The patrons were a goggle
As he hopped and turned and whirled
He bounced around the barroom floor
His direction in a twist
And through the bathroom door
He went… He was really pissed
A pathetic tawdry ending
In the washroom cubbyhole
Just as someone flushed the tank
… Descending down the bowl