The Ballad of Benjamin

(Image Source)

Western Leopard Toad

The Ballad of Benjamin

Benjamin was his name, oh

And a happy frog was he

Despite the fact that he could not see

The rest of the world dwelt in misery

Benjamin wished to share this feeling

That welled up inside his soul

With bird and fox and mole

To spread joy was his goal

Without working eyes

Benjamin dared not travel long

So he sang a heartfelt song

In a voice both clear and strong

The other creatures in the land

Came to listen to the tune

In Benjamin's voice of bassline boom

As he bestowed his gleeful boon

Soon Benjamin's goal was met

Through his song of gleeful mirth

Happiness spread around the earth

Where once there was a dearth

Benjamin's good deed brought him goodness in return

Mother Nature blessed him with the gift of sight

He saw his reflection in the light 

At first it gave him quite a fright

Just a moment later, Benjamin laughed at the surprise

"It seems I'm not a frog at all," he said.

"It turns out I'm a toad instead."

But not a single tear was shed

For Benjamin was a happy fellow

Regardless of his outsides

~Aurora~

Note:

I combined two prompts to create this whimsical poem. The Prompts Blog asked us to speculate happiness being invented by a blind frog named Benjamin. It's Open Link Tuesday at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, and they presented the above picture of a Western Leopard Toad. Thus, the Ballad of Benjamin sprang into being. I hope it made you smile a little.

This Is Not The Way

Image source

Image by Margaret

This is Not the Way

In Yellowstone, a hiker

Was killed by a mother bear

Now the officials want

To euthanize the bear and her cubs

Revenge killing is not the answer

While humans should be protected

So must wildlife

Our predators are already at risk

A solution must be found

That does not involve the death

Of the mother bear

Or her innocent cubs

~Shayla~

This is a link to a petition to Yellowstone officials to spare the life of the bear and her cubs.

I Said this Sadly, But I'm Not Sad

I don't even think this was meant to be a poem, but there is something poetic in the way she narrates. Statements about her thoughts and life become a poem. To me, there's something poetic about life itself being a form of poetry.

~Shaye~

Beautiful Boy

Malcolm Young, mid 1970's

 

Beautiful boy

From a faded photograph

Taken forty or so years ago

Some people callously say

You can add that to the list of things

That no longer mean anything

You will never find me thinking that way

Your beauty was never an all on the outside thing

Which is why it remains

Even now

 

~Cie~

 

Prompts Used:

 

Daily Writing Prompts

Flash 55

Sinful Sunday

 

Tears For My Best Friend

I was trying to find you a home

My home became yours

I loved you before I even met you

Little wild one

 

 

I had to help you learn not to be afraid

You had been in the kennel for most of your life

When I brought you home you hid under the printer table

You only came out to leap on my hand and arm when I slept

I had to help you learn to play with soft paws instead of claws out

 

 

You didn't understand bathtubs

You jumped in with me--twice

I laughed at you, I admit

You gave me a dirty look and went to clean yourself

 

 

You trusted me more than anyone in the world

And I trusted you too

I let myself love you very much

You were my best friend

 

 

You and I were supposed to be together for many years

But you died yesterday, on your sixth birthday

Your kidneys had completely shut down

I made the decision to release you

Rather than to let you suffer for a few more days

 

 

I will always miss you, Lafayette

My best friend

You were sick for much longer than I realized

You were stronger than I knew

Because you wanted to make me happy

 

 

Just before the end

You raised your head to give a soft goodbye meow

I don't want to live without you

I told you that you were always my best friend

And that I'd see you again

 

Please wait for me

 

~Cie~

 

Lafayette

July 17 2009 - July 17 2015

 

 

 

Welley: If the Land Could Speak

The Sunday Picture: I Blinked and the World Was Gone

Click to enlarge