Frogs legs

 Choosing up to down

The flag of the misericord

Sighed in the brown

Dead bench

Of old tree

Finding out it was me

The tree

Laughed

he, he, he

Sitting on the ground

Looking at the stubs

The toes

Of paned glass

The friends with frog's legs

The French Hens

After sunrises

And nuanced noodles

Nabbled

In Nablos the Nurling neighed

The ambulances have a clean strike

Foreign Angels of Tax

May winged gild the lily

But still the frogs jump in The pond

And the toads are looking silly

Sittin under slime stones

That will make their homes

HMRC gives them loans

But toads are sitting pretty

Frogs are leaping here and there

About the trading ocean

Hopping uses precious energy

Hoping is their emotion

Panic in the French legs

Decisions

Hold their water

Who but Napoleon

The toad

Would have sold

Them off to slaughter

I'll call you Caine and I am Abel

I'll call you blood and water

First they hit you with a son

And then with an adopted daughter

Charging like the light brigade

The expressions on zoom

What is she thinking

Spelling out my doom

Like the woman on the bus

A witch with a broken broom

I wouldn't mess with thus

Therefore fills the room