A friendly, festive froggen lives as Hugh.
His simple life is full of work and joy.
This froggen, small and plump has humor too;
This older man is playful like a boy.
Through clever antics, jokes and every prank,
The folk in Rancho Duna laugh and cry.
Despite this joy, an aging sauran Hank
Finds nothing good that Hugh is wont to try.
Like other saurans, Hank has olive scales
A lizard’s snout and piercing, golden eyes.
With slender legs and winding anguine tails,
The sauran folk have graceful gals and guys.
The house of Hank – though small and lonely there,
Is also clean and neat. While working hard
He leaves his lonely house and fills the air
With shouts at kids who play beside his yard.
“Your opened books or chores but never play
Is what your tender age demands of you!”
Says Hank in quite a shrieking, dumb display.
He waves his cane and taps his glasses too.
The pavement ball the froggen kids retain
While Hank proceeds to groan beside his yard.
As Hugh perceives the children’s stress and pain
He saunters towards the kids to be their guard.
“A little play beneath the peaking light
Is hardly cause for shouts and constant grief”
A smiling Hank proclaims to ease their fright
Which bolsters up his role as humor’s chief.
“That’s not the point!” with rashness Hank replies.
“They need to strive for more than play and jokes.
It’s late for you, but not for them to rise.”
With cane in hand, it’s Hugh he firmly pokes.
“I’d rather taste of sweet and round desserts
Than withered grapes on vines that never bear.”
The snarky, boisterous Hank with joy asserts.
“Perhaps you need a hint of what is fair.”
In days and weeks, the happy Hugh his sights
He set on quite the rowdy prank to make.
With froggen kids, in days and nights,
In brush they croak around the lake.
The froggen teens enjoy the fun as well
And Hank complains with rage. He loudly says
“I hope you know that I can surely tell
That folk like you can’t spare the time to play!”
But now the noise of froggen croaks are merged
With sounds of every beastly bellow, call or squawk.
By folk in town, the shouts of Hank are purged –
Through every sound and how they gladly talk.
As Hugh escorts the folk who played this game,
He says to Mark who’s sour, dismayed and stern,
“Appeasing bitter folk’s a worthless aim.
To mock is best for those who’ll never learn.”
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