I lie awake at night and hear the frogs

Chorusing like a mob of drunken sailors.

I picture them with mugs held high,

Intoxicated mouths open wide

In smiles of hopeful reverie,

Singing sailor jigs 

And shanties about the sea.

But one song too many

About the ocean,

Like one too many ales,

Plants the seed of notion,

Where notion usually fails.

And as I gaze into my mind tonight,

I see the faraway look in the frogs deep sight,

And tomorrow late, the chorus will carry on,

But some of the frogs will be gone,

And I may pack my things and go 

And search for the ocean, too,

With a sea shanty on my lips,

And a crazy notion laid deep in my heart.

-jenn